Under my skin
by spiralnebulaM31
Summary: After the end of World War II, a Spanish nurse and a British soldier find themselves at the leper colony of the island of Spinalonga in Greece. The circumstances that bring them together are challenging, but they have their sons and each other. It's up to them to make every moment count and change the life of their fellow islanders. Outlaw Queen - romance & family historical AU
1. 1945

**A/N:** Originally published on the 8th day of the Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2018, this story is finally up! The first two chapters made the advent story and here is the first chapter. I will upload the second one soon, with the addition of a few new scenes. And then more will come, as the story will be continued for the years that follow the two first ones.

I'd like to thank Christina, the most amazing beta, supporter and fic-pusher of all time! Without her help, this story would still be unfinished in my docs, where it had been sitting for more than a year.

The story was inspired by the Greek TV series "Το Νησί" ("The Island") (which itself was inspired by the book "The Island" by Victoria Hislop). It's a non-magical AU that takes place on the island of Spinalonga, Greece, after World War II. Spinalonga's old fortress was used as a leper colony for several decades. Before the cure for leprosy was discovered, whoever was sick with leprosy had to go to a leper colony and usually wasn't allowed contact with healthy people. That's where Regina and Robin met and that's where their story begins.

You'll notice a few Greek words used in the story. They are all explained as you read and more thoroughly explained at the end of each chapter. Also, keep in mind that during the story, there are three languages being used between the characters: English, Greek and Spanish. Of course the entire story is written in English, I'm just giving you a fun fact!

Enjoy reading!

Anastasia ( stargazingM31)

 **::::::**

 _10th May 1945_

 _She spins around in her new dress, enjoying the way the floral pattern looks when it swirls. She faces the mirror to fix her half updo, making sure her curls fall gracefully past her shoulders, almost reaching her waist. She colours her lips red like the flowers printed on her dress, the last detail added to her elegant appearance._

 _She smiles and raises her eyebrows when Daniel stares at her later, while they're walking by the sea holding each other's hand._

 _"You're beautiful, that's all," he says with an honesty she always believes. "You're always beautiful."_

 _And then they're at the festivities, celebrating for their country among thousands of people. But they only see each other, there's no one else in the world for those two people in love as they dance and dance…_

Regina wakes up with a peaceful smile on her lips. She keeps her eyes closed, trying to make the feeling of bliss last longer. But it disappears shortly, contrasting the way she used to spin around and dance. Reality comes back with a frown upon her face, because she knows she has to get up and face the day. Face the decision she made a few hours earlier, before she finally managed to fall asleep.

She feels an ache behind her eyelids as she gets out of bed, proof that she had a little too much to drink and not enough sleep. It was all worth it though. The food that was too much compared to what they'd been eating during the war, the raki that made the adults a little more cheerful than normal, the singing, the dancing… Four years of living in fear and hunger exploded in one night of indulgence. Of freedom seeping through their souls and feeding them with independence, with the confidence that now that the enemies were finally leaving Crete, they could do anything they wanted.

With that in mind and with her fellow islanders' euphoria still lingering, along with the weight of her decision, Regina gets ready for the day. She cringes when she takes her dress in her hands, the fabric a dull beige and well worn. Nothing like what she used to wear four years ago, back when life was easy and more exciting. She tries to untangle her messy curls with her fingers, eventually managing to twist it into a long braid. While putting on her brown blouse - it's still brisk in the mornings - she takes a peek through the half open door at her son's bedroom.

He's still in the land of dreams, probably tired from the celebration. She's loathe to wake him, but he shouldn't miss school.

"Henry," she whispers as she approaches his bed.

A grunt is her only answer.

"It's time to go to school, honey," she tells him as she kneels close to him and runs a hand through his hair.

"Okay," he says, blinking his eyes open.

He chatters happily all the way through breakfast and to the school, despite his tiredness. He sends a smile her way before turning to talk to his friends and Regina's heartbeat quickens. And it dawns on her that she's never felt more certain about a decision before.

Doctor Victor Galakis doesn't stop beaming at her from the moment she steps into his office.

"Regina. What a pleasant surprise!" he says, his eyes warm behind his glasses.

Regina chuckles. "A surprise? I've been working here for four years."

"You have indeed, but now you're free to go. You're not obligated to stay here anymore, you know that."

She sighs as she takes the seat across from him. "I do know that, but we both also know that things aren't that simple."

"For Henry…"

He says what doesn't really need to be said and she nods. She'd do anything for her son, anything to make him happy, to give him the life he deserves. And she'd never willingly part from him.

So, if that means she has to stay on a tiny island, away from her country, away from the whole world, then so be it.

She notices remorse written all over Doctor Galakis' face when she officially declares "I will stay in Spinalonga."

 **::::::**

 _12th May 1945_

Robin Locksley.

Doctor Locksley.

Officer Locksley.

Second Lieutenant Locksley.

And after the war, what?

Robin wants to leave everything behind; the mountains of Crete that nurtured him for more than a year, the place and the people he fought to protect.

And mostly, the people he had to kill. People that aren't there anymore, but whose traces will stay forever inside him. Their lifeless eyes still haunt him and he can't imagine getting rid of the traumatic experience of fighting in a war anytime soon.

Because Robin isn't made to fight. He's made to heal, to save. Something he was hardly able to do in the battlefield.

Soldiers fell all around him and he tried. He took care of wounds and searched for herbs to replace the medicine he couldn't have. And he failed every single time. War is cruel like that and only when you've been there do you appreciate life to the fullest.

Marks of his own former wounds are covering parts of his body, but what he went through was nothing next to what some of his fellow soldiers had to suffer.

It's been a few months since he discovered that he also bears marks of leprosy on his body. That's the reason he can't return to his homeland.

The marks of war bring out feelings of respect, of gratitude, to every Greek he meets. But the marks of leprosy mean shame, stigma. Once you're a leper, you're a leper forever. And you need to stay away from everyone.

A one-way ticket to the small island across the southeastern part of Crete is the safest way. The leper colony of Spinalonga is far from the only one around the world, but it's the closest one to Robin's whereabouts. He's not willing to travel back home and put hundreds of people in danger along the way.

The moment he steps out of the boat and onto the ground, it all becomes real.

"My name is David Nolakis. Welcome to our island," a man about his age says in English with a thick accent. An accent Robin is used to hearing by now from the people of Greece. David explains that he's the leader of the Leper Colony of Spinalonga and extends his hand to Robin. Robin is taken aback for a moment, but he reminds himself that in a place where everyone is sick, physical contact is allowed.

And so, he shakes David's hand and replies in the leader's language, using one of the few phrases he has learnt during his time in Crete. It's David's turn to be surprised, although the look on his face tells Robin that his own accent might be even worse than he'd thought.

And then they go through the main gate, passing the disinfectant room and going straight to what looks like the main street. The "Market Street", David calls it, but the only name that comes to Robin's mind is the "street of death".

He's seen death, smelt death. And he's experiencing it all again as he walks beside David.

People with no visible marks who stare curiously at him, people with extensive marks who try to hide as he passes in front of them, people who are lain on the ground, unable to stand on their feet. All the stages and forms of this disease can be seen along a few meters.

Robin feels bile rising up to his throat, not by what he's seeing, but by his inability to heal them. In his few years of experience, he's never had to deal with leprosy. He knows there's a specialized doctor on the island, so Robin's irrelevant knowledge is just useless here.

Deep down he knows that in this time and place any medical knowledge can be more beneficial than no knowledge at all. But he hasn't been successful as a doctor for years and the death he experienced in the war is making him unable to trust himself for such responsibility.

He hears the people's whispers as he turns around the corner at the end of the street. A word he doesn't know prevails, one that he can guess what it means.

 _"A stranger."_

 **::::::**

 _18th June 1945_

Regina stops for a moment on her way to the market to catch her breath. It's one of those scorchingly hot summer days that make her dress stick to the skin of her back and sweat run along her forehead, damping the fabric of her headscarf.

She's about to keep going when she notices him. The British soldier is sitting at the edge of a rock, close to the house that was prepared for him.

"Hello," she says and he jumps. Regina can't tell if it's because he's been so focused on his thoughts, because she greeted him in his language or because she spoke to him at all. Or maybe because of that thing he was holding, something small that she didn't have the chance to really see before he put it in his pocket.

He turns to look at her and it occurs to Regina that she's never met anyone British before. She can see that this man fits the basic physical characteristics of a typical British man, according to what she's read in books. His fair complexion would make him stand out among all the other residents of the island. Regina understands that looking that different from them is one of the reasons they're skeptical to even approach him.

"Hello," he says back after a moment.

She takes a few steps and stops at his side. "My name is Regina."

"Robin."

During their brief handshake (his hand is warm and sweaty, just like hers) she can feel a few calluses along his fingers, no doubt some caused by weapon usage.

"Have you settled in alright?" she asks, the words rolling strangely on her tongue, almost uncomfortably. It's like discovering an old book and having to blow the dust off of its cover before you open it again. "I'm sorry, it's been a while since I've spoken English."

"Your English is great," he reassures her - out of politeness, she thinks. "And I'm fine here, thank you for asking."

Regina nods.

She's only had help and comfort since she came to this island, something no one's given to Robin yet. She almost tells him where to find her if he needs anything, but regrets it in the last moment. Even though she's not afraid to talk to him, he _is_ a stranger. She doesn't know him at all, so even the detail of where her home is could prove to be risky.

She can easily tell him about her workplace though. What better place to ask for help than the doctor's office?

"I work with the doctor if you ever need anything. I wasn't there when you were examined, but that's usually where you'll find me during the day."

That seems to peak his interest. "Are you a nurse?"

"I'm not a certified nurse, no. I used to work alongside my father. He was a doctor and he taught me a lot. As well as my years on the island have."

Robin is about to say something when Henry's voice sounds from the end of the street.

"Mama!"

He's running in her direction, almost tackling her legs as he hugs her giggling. Regina can't help but giggle herself at his little display of affection and returns the hug, ignoring his overly sweaty hair that wet her dress.

"That's the soldier, Mama, isn't he?" Henry asks.

When Regina looks at Robin again, she sees the confusion on his face at the use of a language that is neither Greek nor English. With her dark hair and dark skin, she could easily pass for Cretan. Half-Italian and half-Spanish, she believes that her characteristics are clearly not Greek, but only Greeks reside on this island apart from her and Henry, so she's used to such assumptions.

She switches to Greek in the sake of Robin. She makes an assumption herself, guessing that he must know more Greek than Spanish. "Yes, Henry, that's the soldier. His name is Robin. Robin, this is my son Henry."

Regina thinks she sees a pained look on Robin's face at her words, but it's gone so quickly she's not even sure it was ever there.

Man and boy shake hands tentatively, and soon Regina and Henry are bidding Robin goodbye to continue with their day.

 **::::::**

 _22nd July 1945_

It's been over a month since Robin came to Spinalonga, and his days have turned mundane. Nothing to do apart from staring at the sea, nowhere to go apart from the market. The market where he talks to no one and no one talks to him. He doesn't think people are afraid of him anymore. But he hasn't showed any interest in getting to know them and neither have they. The language barrier is an important factor, for most of the islanders haven't heard an English word in their life.

That isn't the case with Regina though. She talks to him every time she falls upon him on the street or in a shop. He can tell that her guard is up, not revealing all of herself, but still, she tries to make him feel like he belongs.

He doesn't deny her the short conversations, even though he hadn't imagined he'd want to start interacting with her (with anyone really) in a regular basis. But he finds it so easy to talk to her, to share a few unimportant words about the weather or the delicious treats she sometimes buys for her son. All their conversations have been like that. Nothing deeper, nothing too personal.

It's not until he sees her at the island's cemetery that something changes.

She's sitting on the ground in front of a grave, her legs folded under herself and her long braid falling against her back. He can hear her murmuring something, words directed to her lost person.

Robin doesn't want to intrude. The universe must be playing a trick on him though, because he recklessly steps on a dry branch on his way out.

Regina turns towards the noise and he instantly apologises. "I didn't mean to intrude, milady."

"It's alright," she says, "I was about to leave anyway."

She fixes her skirt as she stands and, after touching the wooden burial sign at the top of the grave for a moment, she heads towards him.

Robin notices that that particular grave is different from the rest - it has a curved piece of wood instead of a cross - and it looks isolated. He wonders about that, but finds it rude to ask.

They walk side by side in silence until Regina speaks. "You're not the only one who has lost someone."

Her statement takes him by surprise. There is no way that she knows…

He halts his pace suddenly, suspicions of something he can't really decipher growing inside him. "How do you know?"

She'd taken a few more steps before realising that he'd stopped, so she has to turn around to look at him again. Their eyes lock and Robin only sees sympathy in hers, not malice. The suspicions disappear as quickly as they'd come.

"I saw the wistful way you looked at Henry when you first met him," she says, holding his gaze until he looks down.

He's already unintentionally admitted that he has indeed lost someone, but he's not ready to talk about it.

When he looks back up, he sees her understanding eyes and he couldn't be more grateful.

She points to the hill of the cemetery that they'd just descended from. "That was my dad up there. Sometimes I miss him so much. And only the thought that I could lose Henry..."

Her voice breaks a little at the end, but she doesn't continue. She's not ready to share more either, he guesses.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to hurry. A lot of work has to be done today," she says, all strong and cautious again, the Regina he's used to talking with.

She starts walking again and Robin follows her through stone steps and narrow streets.

"Work at the doctor's office?" he asks.

Her answer is accompanied by an excited grin. "Work for the new hospital."

"Hospital? Is that what they've been building at the beginning of the Market Street?"

He doesn't know if it's her disapproving look at his question ("You didn't even know that something important was happening in the place you now live," that look says.) or the boredom he constantly feels without having anything to do, but in the next moment he is actually wondering out loud how he can help. And maybe the question itself was worth it, because Regina's disapproving look disappears right away, being replaced by that beautiful smile of hers.

Just like that, he finds himself at the Market Street with a hammer in hand, trying to follow instructions that he can't fully understand.

That's the first time he actually needs to speak the language and he doesn't know how. And that's why, when the construction work is over for the day, he looks for Regina in the doctor's office.

"Could you help me learn Greek?" he asks.

She smiles at him for the second time in the same day and he thinks he doesn't mind getting used to this.

 **::::::**

 _14th August 1945_

"Just write all this down now and prepare the exercises I gave you for next time," Regina says, handing Robin a piece of paper filled with grammar rules.

She starts checking the exercises he's already prepared, but looks up questioningly when she hears him chuckle.

Robin shrugs. "Sometimes you sounds like you're teaching Henry, not an adult."

Regina raises her eyebrow at him, but her voice is soft when she says "Well, it's the best way to learn a complicated foreign language."

"If you say so, Miss Mills." He winks at her and she looks down at the exercises again, shaking her head even though a hint of a smile plays on her lips.

Half an hour later, Robin groans in frustration. "How did _you_ learn?"

Regina gives him a look that says _now you're acting like a ten-year-old student_ , but replies anyway. "Actually, I started learning grammar and spelling when Henry started school here. We'd both picked up on a few words before coming to the island, but it was different back then. We hadn't imagined that we'd have to spend so much time here… We thought we would be able to go back to Spain soon. But the war happened. And then Henry's leprosy happened."

She goes quiet after that, and she expects Robin to ask her something, anything. He knows how long she and Henry have been on the island, but the details of the circumstances that led them to this place have been vague in their conversations so far. Instead, Robin nods and waits for her to continue. Giving her the freedom to choose what she wants to tell him, _if_ she wants to tell him more.

Her heart fills with warmth then. She encountered all sorts of nice people when she arrived at Spinalonga, and to have this again with someone who is still considered to be a stranger here feels good. It's a blessing for her to know that there are still decent people out there, different from the monsters that forced her to lock herself and her child up in a place filled with disease.

And that's actually what he must be wondering, what made them come here in the first place, so she tells him. She describes the excitement she felt when all their travel plans were ready, how the village of Plaka and their island, right across from it, stole her breath when she first laid eyes on them. How the locals treated them like they were family and gave them food and a place to stay after weeks of being on the road. How the residents of Spinalonga did the same when the three of them, Regina, her dad and Henry, had to come to the island in order to stay alive.

She realizes she's been playing with a loose thread of the table cloth and wasn't even looking at Robin while sharing part of her story. When she raises her head again, he looks a bit confused and she tries to decide what else to tell him, how to sum up days and days of panic when they didn't know if they were going to live or die. That's how he must have felt during the war himself though, so she decides to go with the most simple and honest explanation.

"We're Jewish. We knew what had been happening in Poland, in Germany… In other smaller countries where the Jewish communities weren't large, but still they were there and then they weren't. We were just traveling for my dad's research in medicine and we didn't think the war would reach Greece. We'd been here - in Plaka actually, staying for the night at the main island - when it happened. We figured that we had two choices: try to return to Spain and probably get caught on the way there or come here, to a place we hoped they'd be afraid to approach."

"And you were right; Spinalonga must be the only place in Greece the Germans didn't touch," Robin concludes.

She nods. "We couldn't be sure, of course. We had to choose between certain death and hope. And we got lucky. At least at first. Then my dad… And then Henry got sick. But at least we were safe from the war," she finishes with a melancholic smile.

Robin stares at her in shock and she thinks back, trying to understand what she said to make him react that way. He's probably seen worse things in the battlefield than what she's read on the papers. He probably felt fear as great as she did when she heard the first bombings from somewhere on the mountains of Crete.

" _You_ 're not sick?" he asks.

Oh. That. She's gotten used to being here, to everyone always treating her like one of them, that sometimes she forgets that she is not actually infected with leprosy.

She shakes her head negatively.

"Regina… You're staying for Henry," Robin says. She can see surprise in his gaze, but it quickly fades away, leaving warm understanding behind. "I get it," he says quietly. "I'd do the same for my son and I haven't even met him."

The question is at the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't say it. She respects him the same way that he did, and lets him choose if he wants to share the sacred details of a family that maybe isn't there anymore.

"When I left for the war, I didn't know that my wife was pregnant. My son, Roland, was born last year, on New Year's Day. Marian has sent me a few photos of him and he's so beautiful, Regina. Wait -"

He digs in his pocket and takes out a photograph. It looks worn out, like it's been held for many sleepless nights and cried onto with tears of heartache. He gives it to her and she takes it, examining the two smiling faces.

A woman - Marian, she guesses - and a chubby baby boy, barely over a year old. Roland has his mother's dark curls and his skin tone is darker than Robin's. Even as a baby, his hair looks thick and long, and Robin was right, he's so beautiful. The carefree smile on his face lights up his eyes, and both mother and son seem to be happy.

How happy would Marian be with her husband at war, not knowing if she would ever see him again? Regina knows her smile is for her son. It's so that Roland grows up with joy and hope.

"I don't know where they are now, whether they're alive and well, or… I keep writing to Marian every week, but I haven't received a letter from her in four months."

Regina feels tears forming in her eyes, both from Robin's story and from her own memories of the partner she doesn't have anymore.

"Henry's dad died when he was three years old. Henry barely remembers him," she says as she hands the photo back to Robin. A tear falls on her cheek and she's not surprised when she notices moisture in Robin's eyes as well. "I just don't wish the same to anyone. I hope your family is alright."

"Thank you," Robin says. "Or _ευχαριστώ_ *."

She smiles at his use of the Greek word and realises that it was an attempt to go back to the lighter tone of the conversation they were having before they decided to spill their souls to each other. She silently agrees; they've discussed enough painful memories for a day.

When she gives him the notebook with his exercises back, she can tell that he's too careful to not brush her fingers. He doesn't want to infect her, she figures, and the thought brings back that warmth she felt for him earlier.

Robin Locksley seems to be a good man and also a tortured one, and Regina can't say she isn't intrigued to know more about him.

 **::::::**

 _15th August 1945_

Robin is awakened by the bells of the church ringing and it takes him a few moments to register the meaning of the sound.

It's a happy ringing. During the time he spend on the battlefield, he didn't hear it, not even once. But on the day the war was over, the relieved Greeks rang every bell with joy throughout the island of Crete, from the small chapels on the mountains to the large churches in the towns.

The happy sound he can recognize, but he has no idea what it's for. He figures he'll find out soon enough, since he'll soon go to work on the construction site.

Before entering the Market Street, he doesn't see a single soul. He finds them all cramped in the small church of Saint Panteleimon, the crowd so big that several people have to stand close to the open door in order to fit inside. The voice of their priest prevails in the devout atmosphere and Robin tries to think whether he knows any celebration on this day.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumps when he feels a hand on his sleeved bicep and only then does he realize that he'd actually stopped outside the church.

"Good morning," Regina whispers and gestures him to follow her. She stops in front of the doctor's office building, away from the crowd.

"What's going on?" Robin asks curiously.

"I forgot to tell you yesterday," she says, biting her lower lip in a way that Robin thinks makes her look cute. He can see an amused smile forming on her lips as she looks at him and he's slightly annoyed, certain that she knows something he doesn't.

After a long moment of her obviously trying to hide her laughter, she says, "It's a big religious holiday for the Greek Orthodox today. So you'd better change your work outfit with your Sunday clothes or you'll be the odd one out."

Robin rolls his eyes. "I already am the odd one out."

Regina's teasing smile softens. "Not anymore. I know for a fact that people appreciate your help with the hospital. It will be ready sooner than everyone thought and they wouldn't have done it that quickly without you. Are you sure you hadn't worked in construction before?"

"I think I'd know if I had," Robin says with a chuckle before growing serious again. "I'm glad it's going well. With that rate, it will be open soon."

"I'm looking forward to it. It will be such a healthy change for the patients who are struggling in the small suffocating room next to Doctor Galakis' office." With that Regina grows skeptical, making Robin think about the love she has for her job and the fact that she goes out of her way to help the lepers without being scared to work with them. (Although in his opinion, she should be scared; what if she gets sick as well?)

"By the way, people also like that you're learning their language," Regina announces proudly.

Robin groans. "Don't remind me. I have all those exercises to do…" His mind goes to the previous day, to their conversation about war and their sons and, judging from the cloudy look that crosses her eyes, she's reminded of that as well.

Thankfully, she changes the subject. "Really though, do you have anything better to wear? I know it's not a holiday for you, but…"

"I know," Robin tells her reassuringly. "It's to show respect to our fellow islanders. I figure you've been doing the same?" he asks as he takes a look at her dress, noticing for the first time that's it's not her usual worn out outfit, but a baby blue dress that leaves her calves uncovered and has tiny flowers embroidered around the waist.

Regina nods. "I've been trying to treat everyone like I would want them to treat me. And all this time it's been amazing. The mutual respect for each other's traditions has helped us get along really well over the years. To be honest, I didn't expect everyone to accept people with different religious beliefs that easily, but my father trying to help find a cure for leprosy played an important role. We've been regarded as members of their community, despite not gathering at the same sacred places and not whispering the same words as prayers."

Robin thinks about all that as she takes a watch out of her pocket and frowns at what she sees. Suddenly, it dawns on him that she must have somewhere to go, and also that he still doesn't know what's celebrated today. And then…

"Shoot. I don't have anything other than my work clothes and my army uniform to wear. I hadn't thought I would attend any special occasions here," he says. "But don't let me keep you from whatever it is you have to do." He smiles at her, a small casual thing that he hopes shows that he's not unwilling to talk with her, but only respectful of her time.

"It's alright," she says, returning his smile. "I just checked on some patients for Doctor Galakis, because he won't be here until later today. I have to run though, I want to be at home when Henry wakes. It's his birthday today." Her smile turns wider, even though there's a nostalgic shadow on her face.

"Oh, I wish him all the best," Robin says. "Really, I hope he's healthy and happy, Regina."

"Thank you," she replies, looking down with a sigh.

"Is everything okay?"

"He's just growing up so fast… I can't believe he's already ten years old. But I suppose that's good, that he's still as healthy as possible." She looks up at him again with fresh determination. "So. I'll go now and prepare breakfast for Henry. In a couple of hours I can come by your place and we can go to Mary and David's for a moment, so you can borrow a nicer shirt for today. The feast will take place at the square around noon. What do you say?"

Robin doesn't know what to say. He knows that Mary is David's wife and also the primary school teacher, but he has never talked with her. He prefers working and being with people than staying on his own all day and night, he can't deny it. But celebrating with them while he doesn't feel like he has a reason to celebrate feels wrong.

"Come on, Robin. Do you have anything better to do?"

But Regina is right, he doesn't have anything better to do. And so, he agrees and later he follows her to her friends' house. With a clean shirt and confusion clouding his mind (because Mary speaks so incredibly quickly and Robin will be damned if he caught three words of what she told him in a language he's not quite fluent in yet), he finds himself in a big Greek feast.

He learns that it's for the Dormition of the Mother of God and it's the first time after years that they're able to celebrate it freely. The table (more like many tables brought together to form a long one) isn't as rich as it used to be in his house back in England. People's Sunday clothes don't have the quality his family's clothes always had. But their smiles and hospitality are as warm as the sunrays above them, and Robin thinks that if he didn't have the weight of Marian and Roland's unknown whereabouts, he'd be able to feel like home.

"Say it again!" Henry tells him from his place beside him at the table.

Robin glances at Regina, sitting at the other side of Henry. She looks at him as expectantly as her son.

"Χρόνια πολλά**," he says to Henry, a wish Regina taught him. With that he wishes Henry to live many years, and Robin finds it beautiful, but Henry only wants to hear it because his accent makes him laugh. "Your mum has an accent as well, you know," Robin says in as best Greek as he can manage.

"Hey!" Regina fakes offense while Henry is laughing even harder.

"Sorry to interrupt," Doctor Galakis says from behind them.

"I hadn't realised you'd be here that early. I can -"

"It's alright, Regina, I've got it," he reassures her. "Enjoy your time with your son and you can inform me whether there are any changes later." Regina nods before the doctor continues. "That's not why I'm here. The boatman asked me if I could bring some letters with me. They arrived yesterday at Plaka and he thought it better not to keep them until tomorrow. This is for you, Robin," he says, giving a white envelope to Robin.

Robin can barely hear the doctor wish Henry for his birthday, because his pulse is thumping in his ears. The world around him disappears and his hands are shaking as he reads the name of the sender again and again to make sure it's real.

 _Marian Locksley._

He can't do this here. He stands up, appearing calm, even though anxiety is killing him inside. He briefly hears Henry ask Regina what's going on before he runs up the street.

He reaches the corner across his house, the place where he usually sits and stares at the sea while thinking about his wife and son.

With fingers still shaking and heart beating fast, he opens the envelope. Another picture of a smiling Roland - oh, how big he's gotten!

Tears escape from his eyes when he reads the words he'd been hoping to read for so long. They're both alright. They're alive and they're alright.

Robin reads the letter again and holds Roland's photo tightly. He stares at the sea, and no matter how good he felt at the feast earlier, he wishes he was able to be with his family.

 **::::::**

 _7th September 1945_

A week into September and there's still no sign of autumn. The sun is as warm as it's been since June and it's burning the back of Regina's neck as she's sitting in front of her father's grave.

The dried grass is scratching her folded legs over the thin material of her summer dress, making her even more uncomfortable.

Beside her, her ever growing son is curiously waiting for an answer to his question. _Will we take Grandpa with us if we leave home one day?_

 _Home._ Henry remembers several details of their life before Spinalonga, but this is his home now. It occurs to Regina that after months of travelling in a very young age, this island is the first place they've ever really settled down at.

Doubts about her worth as a mother cloud her mind (because if she hadn't dragged her six-year-old son to her and her father's wanderings, maybe things would be different now, better), but she doesn't let them show. For today is not a day to self-wallow. It's a day to cherish the memory of her father.

She chooses to let her son's hope seep through her heart and doesn't tell him that they might never leave this place. She just replies, "No, sweetie. Grandpa is resting peacefully now. It wouldn't be sensible to disturb him, right?"

"Right," Henry slowly answers, his mind working for another question, Regina has no doubt. It comes in a beat, "But wouldn't it be nice if he was close to Papa?"

Her heart clenches at his innocence and both men's absence. In moments like this, she would give everything to have Daniel back, to have her own Papa back. If not for her, then for Henry, for her son to grow up with those two people that adored him.

She runs a hand lovingly on his back as she asks, "Do you remember what I've told you about Papa? When we first came here and couldn't visit him anymore?"

Henry nods. "I do. You said that even though we won't be going there as often as usual, Papa will be with both of us in here." He raises his hand to his heart and looks at her for confirmation.

"And the same goes for Grandpa. He'll be with us, wherever we go."

Henry smiles and turns his eyes to the grave again. "See, Grandpa? You'll never be alone!"

Regina lets out a wet chuckle and tells Henry that he can go play with his friends if he'd like.

"'Till next month, Grandpa!" He says before running out of the cemetery.

Regina stays there, the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks under the hill and the loud cicadas her only company. And she finally lets her tears fall.

She gasps when she feels a palm cupping her shoulder.

"Sorry," Robin says quietly.

He's kneeling beside her, occupying the place Henry emptied a while ago. Regina doesn't even know how much time has passed, how long she'd been crying. Her tears are dry now and only a faint stinging remains in her eyelids.

"I called your name, but you seemed to be lost in your thoughts…" Robin continues.

She shakes her head, shaking herself back to reality. "It's alright, you don't have to apologise," she tells him.

"Henry told me where to find you. I didn't want to bother you, but Dr. Galakis is looking for you. They need you at the infirmary."

Regina groans when she checks the time on her watch. "I should already be there."

"I don't think Dr. Galakis will mind, considering what day it is today," Robin says, almost hesitantly she thinks.

So he knows. Henry probably told him; her son likes to talk to Robin about a variety of things these days, enjoying the company of a man that has experiences from a faraway land.

Regina is about to say something when Robin speaks again. "You don't have to talk about it."

She dismisses him, saying, "I can't believe it's been a year since he died. I still feel like he's waiting for me along with Dr. Galakis, that he'll be waiting for me at home tonight." She lets out a sigh, but there are no fresh tears, just a sad smile adorning her face. "He was a remarkable man, my father."

"And the entire island believes so. You must be proud of him."

"I am. And I like to think that he would be proud of me, too, if he knew I am still helping the research for a new cure." At that she stands up, stretching her legs before saying pointedly, "That's why I need to go to work!"

Robin smiles at her and follows her out of the cemetery gate.

"He would have liked getting to know you," she tells him as they're walking towards the Market Street. "He was always a traveller, an explorer. He loved meeting people from lands he'd never been to; he found them exciting."

Her smile is now nostalgic, not as sad as before.

"I can't say the same about _my_ father." Robin chuckles. "He would have despised meeting people that different from what he's used to."

Regina gives him a questioning look when a shout of "Robin, finally!" makes them both look at the hospital construction site.

"I'm late for work, too," Robin says, his teeth digging in his bottom lip adorably.

"Go," Regina says.

With mutual smiles and his promise to tell her all about his closed-minded father another time, they part ways.

Once again Regina wonders what else there is to know about Robin Locksley. As she's wearing her apron, she thinks she might be a little like her father. She might have the heart of an explorer. And it turns out that on this confined island Robin is what's started making her life a bit more exciting.

 **::::::**

 _28th September 1945_

Robin is sitting uncomfortably on the table of the examining room. He'd been waiting for over an hour, and now that it's finally his turn, he doesn't seem to know how to behave.

For all that time he was waiting outside, he could hear the occasional grunts of pain coming from the patients' chamber, he could smell the rotting air of sickness that out in the streets you can sometimes forget it exists.

And now all he wants to do is save them. You can easily put aside that aspect of Spinalonga when you try to go on with your life like it's your _choice_ to be there. But it's different when you see the actual reason for your location, when you see what you could become.

Regina enters holding a light blue envelope and Robin's attention focuses on her. It's _her_ choice to be there and he marvels at her for a moment, for her ability to live among the ill-fated and so proudly look like she belongs.

Clearly ignorant to his thoughts, she looks at him with a raised eyebrow before asking, "Are you going to undress or do you expect us to see through your clothes?"

"As you wish, milady," he chuckles and she does the same.

"Doctor Galakis will be here shortly," she says before carefully closing the curtain to give him some privacy.

She's back a few minutes later, Doctor Galakis following close behind.

A routine examination, that's all this is, and Robin knows well how to be the one to perform it. To be on the receiving end is different. Especially when Regina's fingers are running over the scars on his back gently, trying to figure out whether there have been any changes since the last time. Doctor Galakis follows with a magnifier while Regina runs a finger over a lone mark on his arm, close to a different scar. Regina frowns slightly when she accidentally touches that other one, but she doesn't comment on it.

Doctor Galakis scribbles down in a document he took out of the envelope and Regina brings her hand up to Robin's back again, brushing a mark that apparently looks worse than the others.

"Is this one painful?" she asks.

Robin turns his head around, trying to catch her eyes, and he wonders how to communicate to her that that's enough, she should stop touching him and his marks. He knows that she's there to observe, that she wants to learn more and to help as much as she can. He knows and he understands, but worry etches itself in his mind and for a moment he's speechless, panicked.

The doctor is not sick either and he touches and examines marks of leprosy as well. But the doctor is not a widowed mother who stays among the sick for the sake of her sick son. The doctor is not the person who approached Robin with kindness when everyone else was indifferent to him. The doctor is not his friend.

Later, when Robin's clothes are back on and his dignity is, in some way, restored, Regina catches him in the corridor. All he wants to do is go, run from this place that reminds him of death all over again. But she's asking him how he's holding up and it's been a while since they really talked to one another. And so he stays for a little longer.

"I know it's been weeks since the letter and…"

She lets the sentence linger in the stuffy air around them and Robin casts his eyes down. It has indeed been weeks since Marian's letter and he hasn't had any more news from her. His parents don't know anything either, they haven't seen her or heard from her for months. Robin's initial bubble of excitement about the well-being of his family has deflated over time and now his former concern has returned, even stronger than before.

"It's difficult," he admits.

"You know, if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"I know. I've been caught up with the construction site lately, that's why I haven't..."

"It's alright." She smiles in understanding. "Actually, would you like to join us for lunch on Sunday? Mary and David are coming over, and Henry would love to pick your brain about the new words you've learned this week."

He smiles, too, at that. "I'd love to," he says.

When he goes back to work, it's with the prospect of a friendly lunch in a few days, but with worry still in his heart. For that worry never leaves and he knows he won't be able to fully enjoy Henry's antics or Regina's meal.

 **::::::**

 _6th October 1945_

When Regina heads to the infirmary, she's not wearing her usual worn out clothes. She has her Sunday dress on and her hair down (long curls she's managed to tame for once). She's also wearing a wide smile on her face as she's walking alongside Henry. Because this day is not a usual day; it's the official opening of the new hospital.

She takes a glimpse of it when she enters the Market Street. It's not an imposing building, but it's a sturdy one, one the men worked hard to finish. It will host the patients they already have and give room to potential new ones, as well as provide a laboratory to be used for research.

Regina has a good feeling about it all and today she feels content and almost carefree.

"I need to check on some patients," she tells Henry. "Why don't you go over to your friends until I return? I won't be long."

Her boy runs to a bunch of children his age and Regina laughs at his constant enthusiasm to be with his friends.

She goes to the old infirmary - hoping as she's ascending the old stairs that they'll be able to move all the patients soon - and takes out a list of the things she was planning to do. She changes the dressings of two old ladies, scolds a young volunteer who had been giggling with her boyfriend instead of watching the patients, glares at said boyfriend and makes sure everyone has water within their reach.

She's about to leave when Mary's voice stops her. Her friend storms in the office, panting and calling for her.

"I'm here," Regina says from behind her.

Mary turns around abruptly. "Good, I just wanted to make sure you were still here. Two new people have arrived."

Regina looks at her in surprise. The boat rarely comes from Plaka on a Sunday and especially today it feels too unexpected. It feels like the arrival of someone new interferes with Regina's well-planned evening and she's slightly annoyed.

But she would never say no to caring for someone, not even if she missed the opening ceremony. Doctor Galakis is absent today, and that leaves her and Nurse Katerina solely responsible for anything that happens to the patients. And Nurse Katerina is helping Granny Lucas and her granddaughter at the bakery, to cater for the celebration after the opening, so Regina will welcome the newcomers.

"Have they been checked at the gate?" she asks.

"No, David is busy. He asked if you could check on them first and he can deal with everything else after the ceremony," Mary says, anxiously looking at the clock above the door.

"Sure. Bring them in."

Regina gets two new light blue envelopes and writes down the date and time on both, preparing them for the two new people who will have to stay among them in Spinalonga.

"Here you are, you can come in," Mary says softly.

At her clumsy use of the English language, Regina looks up curiously.

Her heart sinks in her chest. A mother holding a tiny toddler in her arms. Her face is covered with a dark cloth, leaving only her eyes visible. Regina can't make out how young she is, but those eyes look scared and tired.

"Welcome to our island," Regina says. "My name is Regina Mills and I'll examine you and your child if you don't mind."

The woman nods and the child starts moving in her arms, unburying his face from her shoulder. Regina gasps as he turns his head around, dark eyes searching his whereabouts in confusion.

"Regina, this is Marian and her son-"

"Roland?" Regina asks hesitantly.

Marian's arms tighten around the boy and she takes a step back.

"How do you know my son's name?" she asks, her voice raspy and deep.

"Robin… He's showed me photos of him. And you," Regina says, trying to grasp the reality of what's happening.

"Where is he? I want to see him."

Marian's voice breaks at the end and Regina's heart aches for her. She can't imagine what she's been through to reach the island from such a faraway country.

For a moment she wonders if she and her boy are actually sick or if everything was a scam to get to Robin. She quickly shakes the thought out of her mind and takes control of the situation.

She turns to Mary whose perplexed expression would seem funny to Regina in another case.

"These are Robin's wife and son. Do you know where he is?"

"He's in David's office, they're still working on the correspondence with the American Hansen community." Regina gives her a pointed look. "I'll go get him," Mary adds.

"Efcharisto," Regina says and then focuses on Marian again. "They'll be here in a few minutes. Robin has been so worried about you."

Marian clears her throat. "I've been worried about him, too." Roland starts fidgeting in her arms, his voice whiny as he declares he's hungry.

"Have you had anything to eat or drink today?" Regina asks.

"Not since the morning."

Regina can see tears glistening in Marian's eyes. She pours some water into a glass and hands it to her. Marian gives it to Roland first, holding it as he drinks and drinks, and Regina fills it up again for the woman.

"There'll be plenty of food tonight; just wait for Robin to get here and then we'll sort everything out, alright?"

Marian nods again, thanking Regina in a small voice.

Seconds later, the door bursts open and Robin is there. He stands before them with an unreadable expression on his face.

It's Marian who speaks first. "We're here, Robin."

He takes two long steps and envelopes them both in an embrace. Robin and Marian's shoulders are shaking as they hold on to each other. It's only when Roland tries to squirm away that they break apart.

Regina gestures to Mary to follow her outside.

"Let's go to the opening ceremony," she says. "They'll come out when they're ready."

The ceremony is marvelous. There's so much joy, and the laughter is contagious, making Regina grin like a little girl who was given tons of candy.

David's speech is inspirational and Regina wishes Robin was there to hear it. For he's worked as hard as everyone else to achieve this.

And right at the end of it, he's there. He has a hand on Marian's back, leading her towards Regina among the crowd. Marian's face is still covered and Roland is still in her arms.

Robin nods to Regina and she nods back in understanding. His eyes are red and he has half a heart to stay beside his wife and child, but David is calling everyone who's helped for the new hospital and Robin goes to acknowledge the community's appreciation.

He deserves it. Just like he deserves to have his family back with him.

The rest of the ceremony is a blur. A priest reads a text from the Holy Bible and splashes what he calls _holy water_ at the entrance of the hospital. In the meantime, everyone starts eating pastries and biscuits from the island's bakery and not many are aware of the tension in the newly reunited family.

They're back in the infirmary shortly after the ceremony ends, Roland well fed and Marian still wearing the cloth around her mouth. Robin is with them, standing quietly at the edge of the exam room.

Regina examines Roland's body - the toddler looks uncomfortable at first, but eventually relaxes - and is pleased to discover only a small mark under his left knee.

It's Marian's turn and she turns to Robin with something that Regina can only interpret as fear in her eyes.

Robin approaches her slowly and touches her clothed elbow. "It's alright. You don't have to be ashamed of anything," he says gently.

Marian lets out a long sigh before finally untying the cloth from around her face, her eyes never leaving Robin's.

And Regina understands why she wanted to hide. A long mark covers part of her face and neck, starting from her cheek beside her right ear and reaching the middle of her jaw. Her facial characteristics aren't that different from the photos Regina has seen. She's thinner than before, but still beautiful. Even with the mark, her beauty is outstanding.

Robin's hand travels from her elbow to her face and caresses the mark. Marian looks down in shame, but Robin has none of it. His hand remains there, on the mark, until she looks up again.

Regina feels like she's invading a very personal moment. But she reminds herself that she's there for a reason and Robin remembers, too, as he turns to her expectantly.

"We'll give you some privacy to undress and I'll be with you soon," Regina says.

Robin makes a move to take Roland from Marian's arms, but the boy holds tightly onto his mother's neck and does not even turn to look at Robin.

Regina notices the hurt expression on Robin's face.

"You can stay here," Marian says. She lets Roland on the floor close to her as she undresses herself.

There are more marks down Marian's abdomen. Regina takes notes of everything and informs them that Doctor Galakis will have to examine them as well when he returns.

When Regina goes home for the night, she feels exhausted. Henry is already there, asking all kinds of questions about Robin's family.

And all Regina does is wonder herself about Marian's arrival, about the circumstances that led both mother and son to that island and how their stay there will affect their daily lives.

 **::::::**

 _14th October 1945_

Almost a week has gone by since Marian and Roland came back to Robin's life and he's still trying to get used to it.

Seeing them every day is a blessing. But something is not right.

Roland's "Papa" is forced and every time Robin tries to bond with his son, he ends up with a displeased toddler asking for his Mama.

Marian is hesitant around Robin, constantly trying to hide her marks, even though she's seen his as well.

 _It's still the beginning_ , he says to himself, _it will get better in time_.

There hasn't been a waking moment that he's spent away from them; even when they needed to buy food, he convinced Marian to go with him. It would be good for her to socialise, he thought, but he was wrong. Marian's shame didn't let her utter a word to anyone, always keeping her head down when they walked. And while he's becoming better and better with the Greek language, there wouldn't be much for her to say with people who didn't speak hers.

Robin's had an idea, to ask Regina to try getting to know Marian better. But he doesn't want to load her with his own problems. Plus, Regina already invited Marian for a coffee on her second day on the island, when she and Roland had to be examined by the doctor, but his wife politely declined.

And so, Robin tries to be patient and let time do its work.

There's another idea in his mind, maybe a crazy one, and he doesn't dare to actually make plans for it until Henry's visit.

The boy knocks on their door on his way to school.

"I haven't seen you since the hospital opening," Henry says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I asked mum if you aren't friends anymore and she said you are, but you have your family here now and you want to spend time with them."

"Your mum was right," Robin tells him. "I do want to spend time with them. But that doesn't mean we can't meet sometimes, to practice languages maybe?"

Henry nods enthusiastically. This boy's thirst for learning amazes Robin sometimes. It reminds him of himself when he was Henry's age and already knew that he wanted to be a doctor.

Steps of tiny feet can be then heard from the bedroom and Roland freezes when he sees Henry.

Robin gives his son an encouraging smile, but all Roland does is turn back to search for Marian. She answers him immediately and takes his hand as they walk into the room that serves as both the kitchen and the lounge.

"Hi," Henry says, in English this time, and Robin appreciates his attempt to make Marian and Roland feel more comfortable by speaking their language. "I'm Henry."

Marian glances at Robin before introducing herself and Roland.

"Hello, Roland," Henry says softly and the younger boy mumbles a shy _hi_.

"Henry is Regina's son," Robin says. And then, "Does your mum know you didn't go directly to school?" He looks at Henry suspiciously.

Henry's teeth dig into his lower lip. "No," he says, then switches to Greek again. "Could you not tell her? She's already stressed enough after Doctor Galakis announced that he's leaving and they still don't know who will take his place."

The news take Robin by surprise. "Doctor Galakis is leaving?"

"Uh-huh."

And suddenly everything falls into place as the most doubtful of Robin's ideas doesn't feel that impossible and distant anymore.

"Is your mum still at home?"

Henry nods once more. "Yes." He frowns before he continues, "She said she had to fight her headache before going to work."

Robin's heart warms at Henry's concern for his mum, but his own concern flares up. Is she that stressed about Galakis' departure or is there anything else going on?

"Good," Robin says. "Now, young man, isn't it time for you to go to school?"

Henry's eyes widen in a way that looks comical. "I'm going!" And with that, he's out.

Robin doesn't lose any time and walks towards Regina's house with determination and a document rolled up in his hand.

She's opening the door when he appears in front of her.

"Hi," she says, surprised.

"Hi," he replies.

They stare at each other for a minute, both waiting for the other to talk.

"Is there-"

"Were you-"

They chuckle at their simultaneous words and Robin gestures for her to speak.

"Is there something important that you wanted? Because I'm late for work…"

Robin hesitates, feeling guilty to delay her even longer. "I thought you were about to leave…" He locks eyes with her and she's looking at him expectantly. "Give me five minutes?"

She opens the door farther and lets him in.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine, just nursing a not-so-pleasant headache," she says. "What about you? How are Marian and Roland?"

For a moment, Robin considers spilling his guts out to her, telling her everything that's been eating him alive during his days and nights with his family, but immediately regrets it. He'll figure out how to be with them.

And so, he focuses on the reason he's there.

"They're alright. Trying to get used to being here. I just found out that Doctor Galakis is leaving."

Regina frowns, maybe at his sudden change of subject, maybe because she really is worried about the upcoming replacement of the doctor.

"Where did you- Did Henry tell you?"

Robin is searching for an answer, unwilling to betray his young friend, but apparently silence is the answer he should not have given, for Regina is asking "He came by your house, didn't he?"

"His intentions were good," Robin says.

But Regina has entered that strict-mum mood Robin has seen a couple of times, the mood that gives Henry mild punishments like "no friends for the evening" or "no sweets this Sunday". "I'm sorry, Robin, I told him not to bother you."

Robin dismisses her apology with a smile. "Don't worry, he didn't. He just hadn't seen me for a while and I get that he's impatient and curious. And he's also worried about you. He kept mentioning how stressed you were."

"I'm fine, really. If you're here for a pep talk-"

"That's not what I'm here for." She glares at him and he realises he's interrupted her. "Sorry. Here, read this."

He hands her the rolled up document and watches as she unrolls it and starts reading. She looks up at him seconds later with her mouth agape.

"You're a doctor?"

"I am," Robin says. "Do you think I could replace Doctor Galakis?"

"Do you know any details about the leprosy bacillus and the research done so far?" Regina asks with a raised eyebrow.

"No," he admits. "I used to have my own general practice, but leprosy wasn't something I had ever come across. Then I had to fight in the war and I just… I couldn't keep watching people die, Regina. I could save no one."

"And now there's a chance you can save your family…"

A chill runs down his spine at her words. She understands. And to him, that's important; it's the next step.

"Exactly."

"You know you could have already been well into a successful research if you'd decided this a few months ago…" She sighs and starts walking to her bedroom.

And Robin thinks he won't get any help from her. Until…

She's back, holding a few books and a large dark envelope.

"Doctor Galakis will be here until the end of January. In the meantime, you can educate yourself with the basics about leprosy," (she gives him one of the books) "the unsuccessful treatments used so far" (she gives him another book) "and last but not least, my father's notes."

The large envelope is in his hands, but the last book, the smaller one, remains in Regina's.

"And you'll definitely need this," she says, finally handing him that book. _Modern English to Spanish and Spanish to English Dictionary_ he reads on the cover. Regina understands, but is not making it easy on him. That's the best he can get right now though, so he gratefully accepts it.

He studies her as he balances books and notes in one hand and grabs his _University of Birmingham Medical School_ diploma with the other. She's not mad at him, he thinks. Probably just annoyed that he'd withheld such an important aspect of his life for so long.

"Thank you," he says sincerely.

 **::::::**

"Where were you?" Marian asks once he's back.

Robin leaves the books on the table. "I went to see Regina."

Marian's eyebrows shoot up and Robin frowns.

"What-" he starts, but she doesn't let him say anything.

"Her son was here, you were talking about her in a language I don't know and then you went to _see_ her?"

Marian's tone is harsh, accusing, and Robin tries to understand where all this is coming from. His Marian used to be collected and confident. The woman in front of him now is insecure and readily upset.

He can't blame her. Her life changed dramatically in the last two years and now her appearance is different as well.

He's heard stories and stories of soldiers and their wives falling apart during or after the war and he doesn't want them - he refuses to let them - to break apart because of the distance inevitably lying between them.

He notices Roland bundled up in a corner of the room, looking at him in what he can only describe as fear. And for the sake of his wounded family, Robin's tone is calm when he says, "Marian, please look at these." He points to the books he just brought in.

She takes a look at the titles and her eyes soften.

"I want to be a doctor again. I want to help you and Roland," he says. "And to do that, I needed _her_ help. Because a new doctor will be needed soon and even though they trust me for handiwork, it takes a whole lot more to gain someone's trust when it's about saving their lives. I'm going to study and find myself again."

Marian nods. Robin notices there are tears in her eyes. "You never lost it, Robin. Throughout your letters, I could feel that despite the difficulties, you were still you. And you can do so many things…"

"So… Are you with me on this?" he asks with a hopeful smile.

"Yes."

She falls into his arms and buries her head in his shoulder. And a moment later, Robin feels small hands grabbing his trousers. He sees his son's eyes staring curiously up at him when he looks down. With renewed hope, he lifts the boy up and cuddles him close to his chest. It's the first time that Roland doesn't pull away.

They'll figure out how to be with one another.

That night, after Roland is tucked in in bed, Robin moves a lone candle to the table and opens the first book. His thirst for learning has returned stronger than ever and with determination, he starts reading.

 **::::::**

 _23th November 1945_

"I've done a pretty decent job, don't you think?"

Marian turns around at the odd question and Regina smiles at her.

"With the books, I mean," Regina explains. "I began collecting them in my third month here. I figured I should as well do it, since things weren't looking good and I imagined I would have to stay here for a long time…"

She glances behind Marian, at the shelf filled with foreign-language books. There are Spanish and English titles, and even a few French ones. Regina looks at them proudly among the dozens of Greek titles in the small library of the island.

"A decent job indeed," Marian replies politely.

Regina returns two books, both in Greek, a plain white one with the title in green and a colourful one that looks like a children's book.

"I'm just leaving these; I'll come by with Henry after school so he can choose a book, too," she tells Afrodite, a beautiful young woman with brown curls and lively blue who works as the librarian.

"Sure," Afrodite says and writes down the number of the book Marian decided to borrow.

Regina waits for Marian and Roland, and the three of them walk down the Market Street, the boy holding onto his mum's hand.

"How are you, Roland?" Regina asks.

"I'm okay," he says cheerfully and, in both women's surprise, he reaches up and with his free hand he grabs Regina's.

Regina smiles at him and thinks about how far he's come, how far they've both come, him and Marian.

Marian is not ashamed to show her scarred face anymore. She's not pleased with the way she looks, Regina can tell. But they've talked about how the disease changes your body and your soul, Regina sharing her experience from her patients, and Marian is coming to be accepting of the situation. Regina thinks she's now beginning to see the woman Robin had spoken to her about.

And Roland seems to be blending in despite the lack of other children his age or his different language. He plays with Henry in the weekends when the Locksleys visit for lunch, the older boy usually teaching him to make castles with wooden sticks and small rocks, and he's even picked up on a few Greek words.

Regina knows Robin's family isn't perfectly happy, but they're trying to get there.

They're about to reach the hospital when Marian stops. Regina turns to look at her questioningly.

"Could I have a word with you?" Marian asks.

They take the street to their homes and stop at a secluded corner that has a beautiful view to the sea. Marian lets Roland play beside them and stares at the endless blue.

Regina notices her shiver and then she coughs. And coughs and coughs and Roland calls her and tries to get close to her, but Regina holds him back by his shoulders.

Marian finally calms down and when she faces Regina and Roland again, she has a hand on her chest and teary eyes.

"I'm alright. Don't worry, my baby, I'm alright."

Regina leans over him and touches his curls affectionately. "Roland, look, your wooden house is waiting for you. Go play for a little while and your Mama will be with you soon" she says.

He nods against her and does as he was told.

"Is there something wrong?" Regina asks in a hushed tone.

Marian shakes her head. "I'm alright," she says again, but something in her expression fills Regina with disbelief. "It's just a cold that I have."

"Are you sure?" Regina insists.

"Positive," Marian replies firmly. "There's something else I wanted to tell you and there's no easy way to do it, so I'll just say it."

Regina gives her an encouraging nod.

"It looks like you and Robin have a connection-"

Regina frowns and is about to say that there's nothing going on between her and Robin when Marian continues speaking.

"I know you're friends and nothing more," Marian assures her. "Robin is ridiculously loyal; he would never do something like that to anyone. But you have an understanding. You're both parents, wanting nothing more than the best for your children. You both work in the hospital, care for your patients and would do anything to find a cure for leprosy. He's told me that you've helped him a lot since he came here. I appreciate that."

Regina suddenly feels self-conscious. She's used to helping without expecting to get anything in return. It's what her father taught her. "It was nothing, really."

"It was _something_ for Robin, and for me. You've made a difference."

To that, Regina only smiles at her.

"And you're so good with Roland…" Marian continues.

"That I owe to my own son," Regina says, her smile growing wider at the thought of Henry.

"I believe it. I can see how much you love him." Marian goes silent. Then, taking a deep breath, she says, "And I'm daring to ask you to help Robin raise our son if anything happens to me."

That's not something Regina expected to hear.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"If for any reason, I'm not fit to take care of Roland, please will you help Robin do it? He has the best intentions and he loves our son so much, but he's just started bonding with him and I guess I'm just… scared. I want them both to be alright and happy."

Tears shine at the edges of Marian's tears and something tells Regina it's not because of the cold autumn breeze.

A feeling in her gut screams that there's something Marian is leaving untold, but she's already asked her twice and she knows she won't get anything else out of her today. The woman is asking her for something precious, something that needs great courage to ask for. Regina's heart breaks for how vulnerable she looks and she wonders if she was like that years ago, when she was still a stranger here.

Regina looks at Roland and then back at Marian. And how could she deny her something like that? She and Robin indeed have an understanding and that little boy has already stolen Regina's heart with his sweetness. She would help Robin take care of him, even if it wasn't for Marian's words.

"Of course, Marian," she says eventually. "But nothing is going to happen. We'll find a cure and we'll all leave this place, you'll see."

She tentatively reaches and gives Marian's hand a reassuring squeeze.

When she enters the hospital minutes later, a strange feeling has registered in her chest and she can't shake it.

She returns Robin's greeting absentmindedly and feels his gaze as she fixes herself a cup of her favourite herbal tea.

She looks up to find him examining her curiously and she has half a mind to tell him everything about her strange conversation with Marian. But she convinces herself not to, for Marian trusted her with what she felt, and trusted only her for her own reasons.

And so, Regina decides to solely ask generally about Robin's family, to see if he's noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"We're okay," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Roland is amazing. He truly is. I think he's finally beginning to see me as his father."

"I imagine it must not be easy," Regina says.

"It's not. But I understand that for a boy so little who's been through so much, trusting someone new takes a lot of work. And Marian… She's copying well, but she's not exactly the same as before."

Regina notices disappointment in his last sentence. She sighs, trying to find words of advice that could actually be useful to him. "Give her a chance, okay? It's not easy for her either."

Robin is quick to say, "I know. I'm patient and trying to help her whichever way I can. But sometimes I feel like she doesn't want my help, that she doesn't want _me_. And the last few days she's been having a cold and she's been even more difficult."

So he has noticed Marian's cold. "Is she alright?" Regina asks.

"She says it's just a cold," Robin says. "To be honest, every little thing scares me these days, makes me think that I could lose them again. But she hasn't shown any signs that there's anything more serious going on with her."

"So… More patience it is?"

Robin smiles. "Yes."

They go back to work and it's only in the afternoon, when she passes by the Locksleys' house and hears Marian telling Roland a fairytale that she thinks she might have been worried for nothing.

 **::::::**

 _15th December 1945_

He should have seen it. It's the only thought in Robin's mind as he looks at Marian lying unconscious on one of the hospital beds.

The studying material Regina gave him two months ago was the perfect opportunity for him to start anew. To leave behind the ugly memories of war - as much as he could - and begin his journey as the next doctor of Spinalonga.

Two of the books were written in English and that made reading them easy and light. He absorbed every piece of information and read them again to make sure he hadn't missed anything before proceeding to Henry Mills' notes.

And when he got to the notes… Then the first challenge began. He had to go through pages and pages of medical entries and observations related to Henry's research, most of which in Spanish with the occasional English and Greek from the last few years of his life that he spent in Spinalonga.

The dictionary indeed proved to be useful. After playing with Roland every morning, he spent hours studying and translating until three weeks later, he was able to understand almost everything without the help the dictionary provided.

It was the beginning of November when he had an official talk with Doctor Galakis and David. The two men accepted his diploma and references with surprise and also relief, for they thought that a doctor who lived on the island was a better choice than someone who had never been there before.

The second challenge began when Robin was placed in the hospital for a trial period, along with Doctor Galakis.

Or so Robin thought. Because it turned out that no challenge was there for him. The way he behaved around the patients, the way he examined them, everything came natural to him, like he'd never left his job.

By the beginning of December, Doctor Galakis was pleased with the person who would succeed him and Robin knew that by the end of January he would be completely ready to take on the position on his own.

The last month went by incredibly fast for him. He was at the hospital most mornings and some evenings. He spent all his free time with Roland and Marian, being the happiest he'd been in years.

But somehow, among the studying, the work and his attempts to maintain that profound happiness, he missed the warning signals his wife's sick body was giving him.

He believed her reassuring words that it was just a stubborn cold that didn't even feel that bad.

He didn't realise that her insistence to put honey into her drinks wasn't because she developed a sudden liking for the sweet taste, but because she was trying to ease her coughing fits.

And with the warmth she always made sure she had inside the house, he only noticed her rising temperature a few days ago.

 _"I don't think Marian is as well as she wants us to think she is."_

He recalled Regina's words while he was trying to convince Marian to go to the hospital for a proper examination. Regina had been right, and even though he didn't want to believe it at first, Marian's health deteriorated before his eyes.

She was adamant to heal herself with echinacea and elderflower tea, and lower her fever with cloths soaked in cold water. And she partially succeeded. She seemed to be alright for a couple of days, better than before at least.

Her lips were cool this morning when Robin kissed her goodbye; her forehead as well. She was bending down to play with Roland when he closed the door behind him.

How could he have guessed that in the course of a few hours everything would change?

He found Roland crying when he went back home late in the afternoon.

"Mama down," the boy kept saying in between all the sniffing and sobbing. Robin took him in his arms and looked around the house. Marian was unconscious in the bedroom floor.

With his heart beating fast and his palms sweaty with anxiety, Robin acted as fast as possible. He took Roland to Regina, asking her to watch him while he took Marian to the hospital.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay," she was telling him when Robin ran out the door.

And now Marian is severely sick on a hospital bed and Robin feels his breath coming short and his eyes water. But he can't have that. He has to be strong for her and Roland.

Her blood pressure is low and there's fluid in her lungs. A dose of penicillin is already in her, was given to her with an injection.

Robin is wetting her dehydrated lips with a towel when Regina appears.

"How is Roland?" he asks.

"He fell asleep. The poor little guy…" Regina sighs. "Granny Lucas is with him and Henry."

Robin nods. He can't take his eyes off of Marian. Even the slight rising and falling of her chest gives him courage, reminds him that she's alive.

"She didn't even complain about any pain," he says. "I can't imagine she had no pain in her lungs, but she insisted…"

"I know." Regina has come right behind him and he feels her hand rubbing his shoulder lightly. "I'll stay with Roland until you're ready to go back home."

Robin turns to look at her incredulously. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Robin, you have to rest," Regina says with a tone he's heard her use before with her most stubborn patients. "And it will be good for Roland to have at least one of his parents tonight."

Of course she's right. But right now, in this moment when the woman he thought he would spend the rest of his life with won't open her eyes, the only thing he can do is wish for her recovery.

 **::::::**

 _24th December 1945_

Marian's recovery never comes.

She had a handful of bright hours, in the middle of her hospital stay, when everyone thought she was going to heal.

So blessed were her moments with Roland! It was like the world was giving them a bit of time for sweet kisses and gentle reassurances that no matter if Mama wasn't there, everything was going to be alright, because Papa would never leave him.

Roland was crying quietly when Regina took him home that day and then he clung to his father's embrace later in the evening and wouldn't let go.

Robin rarely left Marian's side. He checked on a few patients and spent the nights with Roland, but always went back to Marian's bed, staying beside her and watching her.

They had some private moments as well, Regina is sure. But she doesn't want to pry, she only helps them without asking questions. She helps with Roland and she helps Robin at the hospital.

And as the days go by and Christmas is nearing, the atmosphere in the gloomy room is depressing.

The children of the island are happily singing the carols throughout the morning; Henry with them even though he and Regina don't celebrate Christmas. Regina would never deprive him of the pleasure of spending time with his friends, so she doesn't mind.

Their voices spent joy everywhere they go and, despite the biting cold, everyone seems to be enjoying their day.

They have a small gathering in the square in the evening. Chestnuts are being roasted and warm rakomelo*** is served. Cheeks are red and bodies bundled up with several layers of clothes, but there are smiles and there are Christmas songs still being sung.

And everyone goes to church a little before midnight.

Regina never liked to stay at home at this time on Christmas Eve (she feels like she and Henry are the only people on this island if she does so). And that's why, after the square is emptied, she decides to check on Marian and Robin.

Roland is asleep in her arms when they enter the doctor's office. Henry is full of energy still from his time with his friends and Regina has to remind him to be quiet to not wake Roland. She leaves the boys there, carefully laying Roland in the doctor's comfortable chair, and heads to the patients' room.

The Christmas carols have been replaced with the priest's voice reading from the Gospel. The church is so close to the hospital that Regina can hear it. Suddenly the bells are ringing, joyfully and loudly declaring the birth of baby Jesus. Psalms are sounding, their tone cheerful and optimistic.

But inside the hospital, it's quiet. It's like Christmas hasn't reached this place. And when she enters the room, it's anything but happy celebrations that she sees.

It's death.

 **::::::**

 **Glossary**

* Ευχαριστώ - efcharisto - thank you

** Χρόνια πολλά - chronia polla - literally: many years - a wish used in several occasions like birthdays and religious holidays

*** Rakomelo - a mixed alcoholic drink, made by raki and tsipouro (two types of grape pomace brandy) with honey and several spices such as cinnamon and cardamom, and served warm


	2. 1946

**A/N:** This is the second part of the story published on the Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2018. I originally planned to change this part a bit and add a few things, that's why I haven't added it to the story here for so long. But I realised that I liked the way it's written and I don't want to change anything. However, there are still some things that I want to add to this part - this year of Regina and Robin's lives. And so, I will add a few more dates for the OQ Prompt Party 2019 this weekend, before going on with the next year and using even more prompts and an awesome specific prompt that I've received.

Without further ado, here's 1946 like some of you have read it on the Advent Calendar!

Anastasia ( stargazingM31)

 **::::::**

 _7th January 1946_

"He still hasn't shown up?" Doctor Galakis asks once he enters the exam room.

Regina looks up from the file she's been studying. "No."

"It's been two weeks, Regina. I'll be gone by the end of the month," he says in a tone that suggests it is _her_ responsibility to bring Robin back to work.

But it's not. She's tried to talk to him about it, she really has. But it's such a difficult time for him and if anyone knows what it's like, it's her. She still remembers the pain of losing your spouse, the person you thought you'd spend your entire life with. The desperation she felt when she realised she would have to raise Henry on her own still stings every time he seems to be missing a father figure.

Now she sees Robin going through something she's gone out of stronger though battered and she knows pressure isn't the way to convince him to get his life back on track.

"Exactly, it's been two weeks; two weeks _only_. He needs time to grieve and get used to being Roland's only parent," she says.

Dr. Galakis looks at her incredulously. "Don't you see he's not even doing that? How many times have you taken Roland to Granny's since Christmas? His father isn't working at the moment and he should be the one taking care of him, especially now."

"Now you're just being cruel. I'm only trying to help keep some sort of normalcy in Roland's life. He used to spend the mornings at Granny's or the library while Marian was ill and having a routine is good for him," she says, exasperated, because Dr. Galakis doesn't have a say in the matter. "His father is fully aware of that and he agrees," she adds for good measure even though it's not the whole truth.

"You're right, Regina, I'm sorry," he says, true regret in his voice. "It's not your fault things are the way they are."

"It's not Robin's fault either."

Dr. Galakis nods. "He's the one who is supposed to replace me though. It's probably too late to find someone permanent now. A temporary doctor will have to take my place and then we'll have to-"

"That won't be necessary. Robin will come round," Regina says with a certainty she hardly believes. She knows Robin will feel better eventually, but time flies when you least want it to, and she's not sure it will be enough for him.

…

He's falling apart.

He's sinking into a sea of grief and he doesn't know how to be saved.

He wants to try, but he doesn't think he can make it. For his hope has been shattered and his life will never be the same again.

When Regina brings Roland back to the home he shares with Robin, the toddler reaches for him, inexplicably finding comfort in his arms. He looks up at his father quietly, with eyes full of questions and worry. He has no mother anymore and maybe he senses it? Robin doesn't know. He hasn't dared to explain the truth to him. How do you tell your two-year-old son you met a few months ago that he'll never see his Mama again?

Regina uncovers a plate of warm food. Roland has been fed, she says, and the meal is for him. He takes a look at it, takes a whiff of its delicious smell, and feels sick. What kind of parent doesn't provide for his own child? _He_ should be able to cook a meal for Roland. But he can't.

Regina is pressuring him to return to work. It's gentle pressure, unlike the way Dr. Galakis asked him the other day. But it's still pressure and it tightens his chest, making his breathing hard.

If it was any other time in his life, he would see that it's not even pressure. It's encouragement, an attempt to help him save himself.

But it's his fault that Marian died and the guilt is stronger than any other emotion at the moment. He should have seen the signs. He didn't, and now everyone is paying the price.

Roland will grow up without his mother. He'll have a useless father instead.

The island won't even have a doctor, because he's too scared. He's ruined. He's incapable to even try.

And he's falling apart.

 **::::::**

 _10th January 1946_

When she knocks on his door, there is no answer.

She knocks again.

The toddler at her side is looking curiously at the door and then up at her.

"Papa?" Roland asks in a small voice.

"He's probably gone for a walk," Regina says. "Come on, let's go to my place to see Henry."

Roland beams momentarily at the mention of Henry. At least he hasn't picked up her worry about Robin.

By the time they reach her home, a million thoughts have entered her mind, swirling around a main theme: something bad has happened to Robin. He might not have been the ideal father for the last couple of weeks, but he's always been at home, waiting for Roland, in the evenings.

One fleeting thought is different than the rest. What if Robin decided to go back to work? Dr. Galakis has given him a deadline and that is tomorrow. If he doesn't make the decision until then, he loses his place.

Guilt prevails over her worry for a moment, because the previous evening she insisted a bit more than usual. And unfortunately, that only made Robin's negative answer even more definite than usual.

Roland leaves her hand once they're inside and runs to Henry. Her son is crouching down in front of the kitchen table and she can't quite figure out what he's doing.

A giggle escapes Roland and she looks down inquisitively.

"Henry!" she exclaims as she sees a large black cockroach trapped under a jar. An empty jar that used to contain strawberry marmalade, the remnants of which she notices under the insect's legs.

"He was hanging around the kitchen floor and I didn't want to kill him. So I ate the marmalade and kept him," Henry says with a shug, so naturally that it makes her want to laugh.

However, she keeps her composure and tells Henry to let the cockroach go outside the house. And thinks that she will absolutely have to boil that jar later.

She lights the small fireplace and starts preparing dinner, placing the jar inside a pot that's hanging above the fire, filled with boiling water. Vegetable soup will be it tonight, and she makes enough for all three of them. Plus Robin, should he decide to join their little company.

The boys have gone to Henry's room and Regina peeks inside to make sure everything is alright. Henry is showing Roland how to draw, but the mess around them doesn't let her enjoy the sweet moment.

"Henry," she says firmly in a warning tone, "I don't think it appropriate to throw your things on the floor." Henry lets out an annoyed puff, but doesn't protest, and he grumpily gathers his book and notebook from the floor and puts them neatly on his bedside table.

"Your clothes as well," Regina says, throwing a disapproving look at the pile he's left tangled up on the bed when he returned from school.

"Can you show me again how to fold them properly?" he asks, and she can't resist her smile at his cute way of showing interest to actually learn how to tidy up.

She starts folding Henry's shirt while Roland is fiddling with the coloured pencils, not quite old yet to actually draw. It's so sweet watching her boy undo her work so that he can follow her steps under her watchful eye, and fold his shirt again and again until he is content with the result. A good few minutes are spent in blissful oblivion, both mother and son occupied with sleeves and necklines, and neither one realises that Roland slipped outside and found his way into the kitchen. She's just finished with Henry's school trousers when she hears Roland's scream from the next room.

Her heart leaps at his pained cry and she silently chastises herself for not noticing his absence earlier. She finds him beside the fireplace with tears in his eyes, holding his right hand with his left one. "Ouch," he says and gives the insulting pot an annoyed glare.

Regina rushes to him and he instantly goes into her arms when she kneels down. The tips of four of his fingers are bright red. His thumb is the only one that survived the dip of his tiny hand into the boiling water.

"Oh honey… Here, that will make you feel better."

She wets a cloth with cold water and wraps it around his fingers. Roland sighs with relief and snuggles into her chest.

"You know you shouldn't go too close to the fire, right?" she asks as she rubs her hands up and down his back.

She feels the nod of his head. "But it made bubbles!" he says so sweetly, so innocently.

"But whatever is too close to the fire is always too hot, no matter how pretty and exciting it is."

"Okay," he says. And then, "still hurts."

"I know, honey," Regina says, bringing her hand to his chubby cheek as he looks up at her.

"Mama make it better?" he asks.

Regina's breath is caught in her throat. This is something Robin should talk to him about. Not her and not anyone else. She's struggling to find a temporary answer, something that will satisfy Roland at least until dinner.

She's saved by a knock on the door.

…

When Regina opens the door, her eyes meet him full of worry. Once she focuses on him, they turn wild. And he understands why. He's drunk (what on earth has he been downing all evening?) and his mind is hazy, even though he thinks he can talk and hear just fine. His clothes feel a bit dishevelled and he imagines he stings of alcohol.

She's angry with him, he can tell that much.

He doesn't have time to utter a word as Roland's "Papa!" catches his attention. His son runs to him and without thinking and Robin picks him up.

"Look, Papa," Roland says, bringing a bundled hand right in front of his eyes. Worry etches into Robin's heart as he also notices the wetness in Roland's eyes, obviously from tears that fell not long ago.

"What happened to you, my boy?" Robin asks, gently touching the hurt hand.

"I touched hot bubbles," he says.

Robin could laugh at his overdramatic tone if he wasn't feeling sick once again, this time from anxiety. He turns to Regina. "How bad is it?"

Her glare softens as she answers, "Not that bad. Look."

She carefully unwraps the cloth and while he waits for the burns to be revealed, the whole thing feeling like an out-of-body experience.

When he sees Roland's red and slightly swollen fingers, he sighs in relief. It's a superficial burn that will heal soon.

He'll just need to make sure Roland doesn't hurt it by trying to pull out any excess skin in the next few days. He'll need to watch him and make him understand that he's not supposed to touch boiling water or fire, because it'll burn him. And he will also have to check his burns for any signs of infection.

And just like that, it occurs to him that he's planning about his and Roland's life. It might only be small plans for the near future, but they're solid plans, something simple and doable that he hasn't actually considered since that fateful night.

He can't arrange Roland's entire future right now. But he can make sure he's alright day by day.

"We need to talk," Regina says, some of her former anger now evident in her voice.

They send the boys to Henry's room, and as soon as they're alone, she fixes Robin with a determined glare. Whatever she's about to say, this time she won't be gentle. She will mean business and Robin can't blame her.

"You smell like a distillery," she snarls.

Robin lowers his head in shame.

"Have you been drinking while you were with Roland?"

Her question takes him by surprise and he looks up at her again. "What? No!"

"Sorry, I had to ask."

"I'm not a drunk, Regina," he says. "It's just…"

He wants to give her an explanation, but words fail to come out. So, he just keeps staring at her helplessly.

"I understand that you're hurting," she says, "but you can't keep doing this, Robin. You can't keep damaging yourself and your son at the same time."

"I know," he mutters.

"If you don't go back to work tomorrow, the position will be covered by someone else."

"I know that, too," he says, not breaking the eye contact even though the shame about what he's made of his life feels stronger and stronger.

And then, with her voiced raised more than usual and a desperate look in her eyes he can't recall having seen before, she asks the question he'd been fearing since he stepped foot in her house.

"Well, if you do know all this, then where on earth were you tonight, Robin? Why weren't you at home to welcome your son? Was getting drunk in some random bar more important than Roland?"

She's so raw. So on the verge of breaking, and he can see she's still holding up for his sake. He contemplates her words, how right she is to accuse him, what a failure he feels, and oh, what would Marian think if she saw him like this, if she knew…

Regina is expecting an answer and they can't have a serious conversation if he doesn't say anything, if he doesn't finally open up. He reminds himself of his plans about Roland, tells himself that it's all for him, and Regina is only trying to help. And so, still feeling shame wash over him, he lets it all out.

"I wanted to go to the cemetery. I thought that if I did, I would get some closure. I would be able to move on. But I couldn't go in. I climbed the hill three times, but I couldn't make myself go and face her grave. And so, I… ended up in the bar. Drank shot after shot and when the bartender refused to indulge me more, I found myself sitting on the village's most abandoned bench by the sea, with a bottle of the cheapest bourbon I could buy in the market. And… I drank."

Regina raises her eyebrows. "It didn't help, did it?"

Her comment was a bit harsh, but he knows he deserved it.

"For a while, it helped," he says. "The slight dizziness made me feel free, like I could have no care in the world. But then I felt Marian's photo with Roland in my pocket and when I took it out and looked at their faces, I suddenly felt sick instead."

Regina sighs. "I truly understand what you're going through, but just so we're clear, you're not taking Roland tonight until I'm sure you're completely sober."

"That's fair," he admits.

"And I don't want to see Roland worrying about the whereabouts of his father again," she adds.

"I promise this is the first and last time it happens."

She sees the sincerity in his eyes, feels it in his voice that could tremble, yet speaks firmly. She knows then that he means every word, and that is all she needs. And so, Regina nods in approval.

"There's something else I need to tell you…" she says. "Roland mentioned his mother after he got hurt today. He asked if his Mama would make it better."

Robin is tired. So utterly tired of feeling vulnerable. Dealing with Marian's death is hard enough as it is. Having to deal with Roland's reaction to it seems impossible. "I don't know how to tell him…"

"You'll find a way."

Regina's certain tone surprises him. After all she's done for Roland and him, after all those days that he refused to be an actual father to his child, he thought she'd have no faith in him. But she's been through it herself and when he sees her eyes filling with tears, he knows it's her own son she's thinking of.

"And I'll be there to help if you need me to. Just don't get lost into yourself again," she says. "Okay?"

Robin shakes his head. "You've already done enough. More than enough. And I appreciate it."

"That doesn't mean I can't do more." She smiles at him, and it's genuine. The first genuine smile he's received from anyone in weeks (for with the villagers it's usually pitied looks) and it feels good. It feels almost normal. "But you have to do something, too," she adds.

And that he will do. "I will go back to work. If there's a chance to find a cure, to get all of us out of this island, I want to contribute to it," he announces. "And most importantly, I will be with Roland as much as I can. But I… I don't really know how to be a father, Regina."

"No one blames you for that. But you'll figure it out, you and Roland," she says reassuringly. "He already feels safe with you. Didn't you see how he came into your arms the moment he saw you?"

She does have a point. But what about all the things he doesn't know how to do? "I can't even cook a bloody egg," he says pitifully.

Regina chuckles. "Then let's get to work."

She lets him watch while she's making the soup.

And later, when Robin tucks Roland snuggly under his covers for the night, he promises that he'll never let him get hurt again.

 **::::::**

 _28th January 1946_

Never has the island celebrated the departure of someone. Because no sick person ever leaves. But for healthy Dr. Galakis, that isn't the case.

And so, on a cold Monday evening, after the end of his last shift at the hospital, the young Doctor Victor Galakis, the man who stood at everyone's bedside, held their hands and made sure they knew they were safe with him, says his goodbyes as he steps on the boat that will take him away.

Regina thinks he looks happy. Emotional, but happy. He was their doctor for years, but more than once he confided to her that his time there was taking its toll on him. He'd wanted to start a new life for quite some time.

And he's free to do so. He is liked by everyone on the island and genuine wishes for a good life are heard along with the farewell.

The pier is filled with smiling people and Regina marvels at how kind and selfless they are, knowing that they can't go but being happy that someone else can.

A heartfelt handshake between Dr. Galakis and Robin is the former doctor's last contact with the small island. Then the boat leaves and the people become quiet.

When one by one they slowly turn their backs to the sea, Robin searches her eyes and smiles once he sees her.

He's come a long way in the past few weeks. It's still hard for him, she's sure. He doesn't show it most of the time. It's only details of his busy life that she notices, details that show her how painful it is for him. And he's gotten so good at hiding it that if she hadn't witnessed his torment during those first days after Marian's death, she probably wouldn't be able to notice anything.

Even with the burden he now carries, he's managed to gain Dr. Galakis' trust again. The old doctor left content and reassured that his position was being filled by someone worthy.

But it's the way Robin is with Roland that makes Regina feel proud to call him a friend. The way that little boy lights up Robin's world like Henry does hers. Robin might still have moments of doubt in regards to being a good father, but Regina can see that he's doing the best he can. And he's succeeding.

He approaches her and they begin moving towards the Market Street, Roland holding Robin's hand and Henry walking beside Regina.

"I've wanted to talk to you since last night, but didn't have a chance with everything that's happened," he says.

"What about?"

Several people pat Robin on the back as they pass by him and some even stop him for a quick handshake.

Roland comes closer to Robin, attaching himself to his father's side, not used to such a crowd's attention. And everyone greets them warmly as they go along the street.

Regina stifles a laugh. "We'll never be able to speak here. Dinner at ours?"

"Oh no," Robin says. "Tonight, I'll be the one offering dinner."

Regina looks at him doubtfully. She's shown him a few easy recipes, and he's tried them himself, but only under her watchful gaze. So, she accepts his invitation, having in mind that she might have to take over in the kitchen should his attempt turn out unsuccessful.

Yet two hours later, she's pleasantly surprised. He makes roast potatoes and a salad with lettuce and fresh onion. It's simple, but nutritious and delicious. He's a quick learner and she's glad he tries hard to make Roland's life better by acquiring new skills.

When bellies are full and Roland is engrossed in a story Henry is reading to him, Robin gets Regina's attention as they sit at the kitchen table.

"I talked to Roland last night," he says. "He asked for her once again and I thought there would be no better time to do it. He had to know."

Her heart aches at the sadness in his eyes. She looks at Roland, now giggling at Henry's imitation of a monkey voice.

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. That his Mama was very sick and when people get that sick, doctors can't always make them better, so their bodies stop working. His Mama was very sad that she had to die and it's okay if we're sad, too. But just like Henry feels about his Papa, Roland's Mama will stay in his heart forever, even if she's up in the skies now."

Regina squeezes his hand on the table. "I'm glad you talked about it," she says.

"Is it bad that I'm counting on my boy to make me smile? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Robin asks.

Regina can tell that his concern is real; he actually feels guilty for depending on Roland to help him deal with his grief.

"Roland might be sad about the absence of his mother, but he's still a happy child. He depends on you for everything and you do give him everything you can. If at this point he's the only one who makes you smile, then take it, and keep making him smile as well."

Robin nods at her words and squeezes her hand back. He can't give her a smile, not yet. But he knows she understands, and that's enough for now.

 **::::::**

 _2nd February 1946_

"Hi!"

Henry's voice echoes through the hospital hallway as the boy walks hastily.

Robin looks at him questioningly. From his enthusiastic tone, he assumes he's not there for a serious health problem, but he can't think of any other reason that led the boy to the hospital that early in the morning. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school? What are you doing _here_?" he asks suspiciously.

"I'm ready for school!" Henry says, showing his book and notebook he's carrying under his arm. "But I'm here for something else and I have to tell you before Mama comes!"

"Are you on a secret mission then?" Robin teases him.

"Uh-huh. Because it's Mama's birthday today!"

Robin hadn't seen that coming. In a medley of national holidays, Christmas and traumatic events, he only wished his son a blessed life on his birthday without doing any celebrations. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask about anyone else's birthday, but now that he sees Henry so excited about Regina's, he can't help but wonder what the boy is planning.

"You have to make her take a day off," Henry says in an authoritative tone.

Robin raises his eyebrow. Regina isn't one to be told what to do. "I have to?"

Henry nods. "Miss Nolakis is distracting her right now, so she doesn't come here while I'm telling you all this. And Granny is making a cake. A real cake!"

"So are you actually having a celebration for your Mum?"

"Yes! You'll be there with Roland, right? It will be at the Market Street square after school," Henry says. He jumps when the cuckoo announces that it's eight o' clock. "I have to go! Promise you'll do it?"

Robin sighs. It won't be an easy task, he's sure. But he'll try.

And an easy task it isn't indeed. Regina comes rushing through the door, muttering about all the work she has to do.

"If Mary hadn't wanted to talk right before school like she wasn't in any hurry, I wouldn't have been late," she says, rolling her eyes. "And now I have to check on everyone, and have you seen all those people waiting outside?"

"Regina…"

"We also have to order new gauze and-"

"Regina!"

"What, Robin?" Regina looks at him in surprise.

"Happy birthday."

"Oh… Thank you," she says. A smile adorns her face as she finally takes a breath.

"Yes, I've seen the people waiting outside. And I'll be here to examine them all. Katerina is also here and she can check on the patients on her own and order gauze. Why don't you take the day off?"

She looks at him in a way that suggests what he's just asked is crazy.

"What would I even do on a day off when Henry is at school?" she wonders.

Robin tries to think. They've known each other for months and he's seen her passion about several things; he's noticed some of her favourite activities.

"You could turn the radio on and sing, like you do when you cook for us and you think no one notices. But you could do it for real this time, not whispering the lyrics because it's too loud with two boys inside the house and too many other things to do. You could finish that book you've been reading for a while now, the one with the long word on the title I always forget how to pronounce. You could-"

"Alright, I got it!" Regina is smiling again, but he can tell she's not convinced yet. "But still, there are so many things to do…"

Robin makes one last attempt. "You're valuable here, you know it. But you deserve a morning to yourself. Some time to just relax. What do you say?"

She thinks about it for a moment. "Alright, but first I'll write down exactly what Katerina needs to order and see if Mr. Papadakis needs a change of gauges."

"Don't worry, I'll do all that," Robin says.

"Oh!" She goes to the file case and searches for something. "I also need to make sure that the Kountouris' files are up to date with our new file system, because the whole family will be here for their annual check up soon."

"I'll do that, too," Robin insists.

"But-"

Robin approaches her and gently removes the files from her hands. He takes one of her hands in his own and guides her to the door. Regina is stunned when he takes her coat from the hunger and holds it for her. She reluctantly relents and, rolling her eyes, she lets him put it on for her.

"And, Regina?" Robin adds as she's about to leave. "Be at the square after school ends."

Robin doesn't go to the celebration. He waits until the commotion is over and when he sees people going back to their shops or their houses out of his office window, he leaves. He goes to Granny's to get Roland and ends up getting a piece of cake and a sympathetic smile along with his boy. He makes a final stop at his house before setting foot to Regina's.

Roland is bouncing up and down beside him all the way up the stone steps of the street. He goes on and on about the "yummy" cake in his own cute way and Robin decides that he'll definitely try that cake after dinner.

He's nervous when he knocks on the door. But Regina smiles at them and the tight feeling in his chest disappears.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at the celebration," Robin says.

She lets them in, squeezing Roland's shoulder as he hugs her legs. "It's okay. I understand."

"I understand, too!" Henry says. "Mama told me that it's too soon and you can't participate in any feasts yet. She did the same when Papa died, but she felt better later, and I'm sure you will, too!"

Robin smiles at Henry's attempt to brighten his mood.

"I might have missed the celebration, but Granny has provided me with a very promising piece of cake."

"Yummy cake!" Roland says.

Regina laughs. "He really enjoyed the cake!"

Robin sits at one of the chairs by the table and looks at a very energetic Roland bubbling to Henry about his day with Granny. "I can see that. I have a feeling we won't have an early night." Turning his attention to Regina, he asks, "Did you have a nice time?"

"I did. Thank you for contributing to it," she says, her voice relaxed and her eyes shining with joy. He hasn't seen her like that in a long time; frankly, he hasn't paid much attention to her in a while, so he doesn't really know if she's been happy or sad, stressed or calm.

He momentarily feels selfish, but he hopes his present will be enough to show that he appreciates what she's done for him and Roland more than he's let her know.

"I have something for you."

It's a simple package, something small, neatly wrapped up in a torn notebook page. He thinks he feels her shiver the moment their fingers touch softly, but he doesn't want to elaborate. He just focuses on her reaction, her ever brightening smile and her eyes glistening with emotion.

…

When everything has been tidied up and Henry is in bed, Regina finally has the chance to open Robin's present. _Open it later, when I'll have left_ , he said, and she didn't question him.

She unwraps the package and finds a miniature wooden sailing boat. She wonders where Robin got it from, since there's no one selling such things on the island.

Her eyes fall on the piece of paper and she notices Robin's handwriting.

 _People usually come and go, but words stay forever if you write them down. And with these words I would like to express my gratitude for your help and support. Thank you for being a constant to Roland's life and for helping me take care of him._

 _I made this miniature boat the day we first talked and it always reminds me of you. Now it's yours. To look at it and remember that one day you and Henry will be able to sail away from this island._

Regina wipes a tear away from her cheek. She's touched by Robin's kindness (and amazed by his talent in crafts) and makes a mental note to thank him tomorrow.

She wraps the piece of paper carefully and keeps it safely away in a wooden box. And when she turns to look for the perfect spot for the miniature boat, it doesn't take her more than a few seconds to locate its new home. On the shelf, right next to another object of most sentimental value: her father's compass.

She falls asleep with a smile, thinking about the beautiful ending of her beautiful day.

 **::::::**

 _10th February 1946_

"Will you finally show me?"

Robin groans. "Do I have to?"

"Come on, Robin!" Regina says.

"Come on, Robin!" Henry repeats.

"Show, Papa!"

They all laugh as Roland pulls on Robin's sleeve.

"What do you want me to show, Roland?" Robin asks, looking down at his son with adoration.

"The thing," Roland says.

Regina's laugh becomes uncontrollable and she hides her face in her hands.

"Mama, are you okay?" Henry asks.

Sunday mornings are Regina's favourite time of the week. Those blissful hours that she gets to spend with her son, not necessarily doing anything in particular, help her start another busy week renewed and at ease.

Lately, they also get to enjoy them with Robin and Roland's company, and it's great. Roland is generally a happy child and his antics amuse them all. Robin appears calmer now that he's doing well in his job and his relationship with Roland is healthy. And Regina can tell that having something familiar, like those mornings they spend together, is good for both father and son.

He doesn't smile or laugh often, not yet. And when he does, it's usually after Roland has done something cute.

But now that she's been teasing him about his wooden miniature crafts all morning, he's been in an exceptionally good mood.

She doesn't want to embarrass him or mock him about it. She just finds _him_ cute when he becomes all protective of his creations and since the lighter conversation makes him feel better, then why not?

It was the day after her birthday when she thanked him and asked him about the special gift he'd given her. He bashfully replied that wood crafting was something he'd learned to do as a child and he still found it relaxing at times. His grandfather used to be a carpenter and he'd taught him many of his tricks. But with parents like his, who believed that someone with his level of education shouldn't engage themselves with something that common, it always felt wrong.

When he was sent at war, he started wood crafting again. He was amazed about how easy he still found it, despite all these years he neglected his affection towards creating various new things out of wood. It began with stray twigs that lay beside his feet while he was hiding on the mountains. And it continued with pieces of wood he cut out of his fireplace logs when he came to Spinalonga. Because once he did it again, he discovered that it relaxed him the same way it did when he was a teenager.

 _If I wasn't a doctor, I would probably become a carpenter_ , he'd told Regina.

Another piece of Robin's life had just unfolded for her and she realised that it actually fit. She'd already seen his work when they were building the hospital and it was just one more thing to add to her admiration for him.

And now, here they are, at Robin's kitchen, Regina insisting that she wants to see everything he's made and Henry being intrigued by it all.

"I'm great, Henry," Regina replies with tears in her eyes as her laughter finally subsides.

"So you all want to see _the thing_?" Robin asks, looking pointedly at Regina who giggles again.

A chorus of _Yes!_ is sounding from the boys and Robin is on his way to the bedroom. He comes back with a small carved chest. Inside, there are more miniature creations: an airplane, a train with three wagons, a dog, a chair, a tiny basket.

"Wow!" Henry exclaims.

"Can I play?" Roland asks.

For a moment Regina fears that Robin will let him play with one or two of them, just because it's so difficult for him to say no to Roland, but his answer satisfies her.

"These aren't toys for children as small as you, my boy."

They aren't indeed. Only thinking about all the small particles Roland could swallow makes Regina's blood run cold.

"But I'm big!" Roland says, puffing his chest out.

"Can I play?" Henry interrupts whatever Robin was about to say.

Robin's decision is immediate. _Later_ , he mouths to Henry.

"They are really beautiful, Robin," Regina says. "Thank you for showing us."

"You really think they are that good?" he asks.

"I really believe so. Whatever your parents used to tell you, I definitely disagree. I'd love it if _my_ son could learn how to make such delicate things one day."

"I want to learn!" Henry says.

Regina is taken aback by his enthusiasm. Henry hasn't shown any interest in art before, apart from the drawings he makes at school. She's pleased that he'd like to learn something new.

Robin's smile is bright and genuine, and resembles the way he usually smiles at Roland. "Alright young man," he says after Regina gives him a look that grants him permission. "I'll be happy to teach you."

And once again, Regina thinks that she really likes Sunday mornings.

 **::::::**

 _25th March 1946_

A feast has been planned for later today, after the liturgy at the church is over. And for once, Robin isn't completely lost. Regina has informed him about the double national holiday. Apart from the Annunciation, which he already knew about, the beginning of the Greek revolution against the Ottoman Empire is also celebrated.

The weather has just begun showing signs of improvement, with sunny days occurring more and more frequently, and it looks promising for this afternoon as well. So Robin guesses that people will spend a good few hours outside, eating and drinking at the square.

His decision to forgo any celebration in the near future still stands, especially on a day like today. It's been exactly three months and he can't believe that he made it this far. It felt so improbable, so impossible in the beginning. Still he managed to walk through this rocky road, he still does, and it has made him more resilient than he's ever been.

Today he's not celebrating, but he's not working either. It's a holiday for the people surrounding him and he won't be the one to break the traditions of their closed society, no matter how much he wants to continue with his research at the hospital.

And so, he's made other plans for the day. While everyone is gathering at the Market Street, he takes Roland by the hand and leads him up the hill.

After that eventful evening when he made a fool of his drunk self in front of Regina, he hasn't tried to visit Marian again. But now he's determined to go and he's prepared Roland for it, too. Keeping in mind Regina and Henry's way of honouring their deceased parents, he once again goes through the talk they had earlier.

Kneeling in front of Roland, he takes his tiny hands and rubs them gently.

"My boy, what did we say we're going to do?"

"Visit Mama. But we don't see her. Mama angel," Roland replies.

"Exactly. Mama is an angel who is looking after you from up there." He points to the sky. "And is giving you strength in here." He touches his son's chest with his fingers.

"Ready to not see Angel Mama," Roland says in all seriousness and earns himself a gentle chuckle from his father.

Still, while Roland might be ready, Robin isn't sure _he_ is. It's too late to back out now though, so he just goes on with it.

Surprisingly, it's easier than he'd thought. Roland's hand gripping his tightly gives him the strength he needs to not cry, as he watches his boy place with extra care flower after flower out of his bouquet on the cold marble that covers the remnants of his mother. Robin's eyes sting with the unshed tears, but he doesn't show the full extent of his emotions. He doesn't break down to avoid scaring Roland, who has now sat on the cold surface and is reciting all the 'exciting' events of his life in the last few weeks, probably thinking that his Mama, the angel, is listening.

"I'm sad we don't see Angel Mama," Roland says after a while, when there's no more stories to tell and he just remains silent. They're standing in front of her grave, finally there after all those months, and Roland's eyes are looking around, probably searching for signs of an angel.

"I'm sad, too, son," Robin says. "But you know what? Mama wouldn't want us to be sad. So how about we say goodbye for now and go meet Regina and Henry?"

"Okay, Papa."

Roland whispers _Goodbye, Mama_ , breaking Robin's heart all over again.

"You say goodbye, Papa?" the boy asks.

"Until next time, my sweet Marian," Robin says, feeling a bit silly to be talking to a person who doesn't exist anymore. But at the same time, he feels lighter. Like part of a burden has been lifted off his chest.

He finds Regina and Henry before they leave for the feast.

"Would you mind taking Roland with you?" he asks. "I don't want him to miss the celebrations."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He glances at Roland; he's more quiet than usual as Henry is showing him his latest drawings. "He's had a difficult morning and I want him to do something… _normal_ again."

Regina frowns. "What happened?"

"We visited Marian's grave today."

"Oh, Robin." Regina reaches for his arm and rubs her thumb against his jacket. A movement so simple and yet incredibly soothing. "Are you sure you want me to take Roland?" she asks.

Robin nods. "I think I need a few hours by myself."

He uses his time alone to let it all out. His sobs would be heard through the entire street if everyone wasn't at the square. He doesn't remember crying that hard when Marian died in his arms. But in the weeks that have followed, the initial feeling of numbness has given its place to a gradual release of emotion.

And it's cathartic.

 **::::::**

 _4th April 1946_

Regina goes to work with a smile on her face and nervousness in her stomach.

It's Robin's birthday and she wants to make it special without making a big deal out of it. No one else knows and it'll remain like that until he's ready to celebrate again.

She was responsible for his medical file when he arrived at Spinalonga and she's always been good in remembering dates. His date of birth stayed in her mind and she tried to think of something to get him as a gift, nothing fancy, just something simple, just something to remind him that he is special. To try to make him feel even one fraction of the way she felt on her birthday with his unique present.

He's already there when she reaches the hospital. He's sitting at his desk, focused on what he's writing.

"Καλημέρα*," she says.

He looks up for a moment, just to say good morning back, and then writes some more. By the time she's taken off her coat and put her white robe on, he is standing up.

"Don't tell me we've run out of envelopes," he mutters.

Regina was expecting that, but still, when she sees him just going on with his day, mentioning his birthday doesn't sound like a good idea (and why are her palms sweating?). She's not sure how he'll react and the last thing she wants is to upset him.

She's frozen in place, contemplating what to do. He must have sensed her awkwardness or wondered about her silence, because he finally looks up again.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

The concerned look in his eyes clears her doubts away. He won't be upset, because he cares about her like she cares about him. It will be alright as long as she keeps it private and doesn't make him blow out candles or something. (Then why are her hands shaking from anxiety?)

"I'm fine," she answers. "And we do have envelopes, I just didn't have time to sort out the new delivery yesterday, so they aren't in that drawer."

"Okay, that's good," he says. "Then what's wrong?"

She takes a deep breath and just says it. "I just wanted to wish you happy birthday."

His smile appears momentarily. "Thank you."

She takes a few steps until she's right in front of him. And without giving it a second thought, she circles her arms around his neck and feels his enveloping her waist almost automatically.

That's new. She has no idea why she did it; she wasn't planning to hug him. It felt natural to seal her wish this way.

"I hope you have only pleasant moments in your life from now on," she whispers before they part.

Their embrace is quick, but after it ends, all awkwardness is gone. Only remnants of his warmth are left and she suddenly realises she wouldn't mind if there were more frequent instances like this.

"I knew you knew," he says.

He's amused and his smile gives her a sense of accomplishment. Because that smile has been rare since last November and she's glad she can make it appear more and more lately.

"No one else does," she reassures him. "And I figured you'd like it to stay that way."

"You're right, I do. So could we just work without mentioning it again?"

And work they do. Regina brings out the new envelopes and addresses the one Robin will need. He's been corresponding with the American Leprosy Mission and he'll be sending out a new letter soon. She reads what he's written and they discuss the results of Robin's research that they'll be announcing to the Americans.

Then it's the patients' turn. While Katerina is doing the rounds, making sure everyone is alright, Regina helps Robin complete annual check ups of their fellow islanders.

Lunch time comes and goes, and instead of taking a break, Robin keeps working. He continues with his research, examining new blood samples from their patients and comparing the new results with the old ones. He doesn't even stop to eat properly, only munches on some bread and olives.

It's the last hour of their shift and Regina has had enough. She knows he'll have to take care of Roland right after work and being a single parent isn't the easiest job. She wants to help him loosen up a bit and she has an idea.

Informing him that she'll be back in fifteen minutes, she goes by Granny's and asks her if she can keep Roland for two more hours. She then finds Henry at his friend's house and tells him that she'll be back for him later. And after a final stop at the local winery, she returns to the hospital with her heart bouncing at the prospect of some much needed time of frivolity.

…

Regina enters the lab, still wearing her coat. She's obviously come right from outside and Robin isn't certain what to think about her smile of mischief.

"We're going out," she announces.

"What? Where?" Robin asks.

She shrugs. "We've worked too much this week and especially today. Some time off will do us both good."

He sees what she's doing: trying to make this sound like it's for her benefit as well, while she wants _him_ to take some time off to relax. Because she knows he wouldn't do so if it was only for him. And it's partially working as he's tired and would give anything for some quiet time with one of his favourite people on the island. But…

"I still have work to do."

"Come on, Robin," Regina says. "Tomorrow we have no check ups. You can use most of your time doing lab work."

He's still thinking about it, but what she does next is resolute. She stands at the back of his chair and pulls at his robes. With a sigh he lets her take them away and bring his coat. He's reminded of a similar moment where their roles were reversed a couple of months ago and, well, he deserved this one.

She guides him to the pier. The last boat left for Crete about half an hour ago and now it's peaceful. Not one soul can be seen around. They can see the last of the sunset on one side and the first star blinking in the twilight on the other, and it's beautiful.

"I know you didn't want to mention it again, and I wasn't planning on it, but I got you a small gift," she says, biting her lower lip as her mischievous smile returns.

She takes a bottle of greek wine out of her coat and Robin looks at her in surprise.

"Why Miss Mills, you are more frivolous than you let out."

Regina chuckles.

"So… You can either save it for a special occasion or we can have it now," she says.

Robin's mind goes to a night not that long ago when he appeared drunk and stupid at her doorway. He cringes internally. He doesn't want to ever let her think again that he's a bad parent and drinking in the evening… It doesn't sound like the best of ideas.

"I don't think we can have it now. What about the boys?" he asks.

"I've already arranged that. We have almost two hours until we need to head back." She takes a cork opener out of another pocket and holds it out for him to see. "And it's only one bottle which means each of us will have half. It will only help us relax."

With a wink and not allowing more words to be said, she opens the bottle and takes a big sip.

"It's good," she comments, offering him the bottle. "Not too strong, not too weak. Perfect."

He tries it and momentarily agrees. As the dark red liquid touches his tongue, it feels just right. It doesn't have the bitterness of the sorrow for a life that ended too soon. Only the semi-sweet taste of the promise for more to come. For more intimate moments between two people who care about each other and more reasons to make life worth living for.

The sky is completely dark when only a quarter of the bottle is left. Regina is leaning back on the rocks behind them, looking calm and content.

She passes the bottle to him and as she draws her legs up and crosses them, her knee touches his thigh. It's warm, familiar, and he doesn't mind it. He feels quite relaxed himself and after his next sip, the first waves of dizziness hit him.

"I don't think I'm drinking anymore," he says.

"What? Don't tell me you can't take it!"

He grins at her exaggerated reaction. "Apparently not everyone can be as unaffected by booze as you!"

Her laugh is heartfelt and powerful, characteristics you can distinguish in her if you get to know her. A personality that sometimes reminds him strongly of someone else.

"After the 25th of March, I keep thinking of her in another way," he says out of the blue.

Maybe it's the quietness of the night, maybe the effect of the wine, that makes him feel like talking about her.

It feels a little unfair to ruin a beautiful night like that, but Regina turns to look at him all serious, waiting for him to continue.

"Like what?" she asks.

"I don't think her as the sick person who died, but rather the strong person who lived," he says. "I've never told you what she went through to come here, have I?" At Regina's negative reply, he continues, "she didn't want the world to know. She didn't want anyone to pity her. But I'm proud of her. I never saw her as one who deserved pity. And you're not the world, you're my friend and I want to tell you."

"And I want to hear it," she says softly. "Go on."

"She never got along with my parents. See, they didn't want a daughter-in-law of another nationality, especially not one that wasn't white. Before I was sent to Crete, we'd been living away from them for a few months and we were the happiest we'd ever been. When I left and she found out she was pregnant, I insisted that with my parents she would have the support she needed as she didn't have any family of her own. And it was alright for a while. My parents helped her raise Roland for the first year. But then Marian started working at a women's shelter. Always used to working, she could never stay at home for too long. Even here, if she was still here, I'm sure she would…" He makes a long pause, collecting himself again. "My parents didn't like that she wasn't a typical woman who stayed at home all day to look after her child. And then Marian noticed the first mark on her face. She didn't pay much attention to it at first. She suspected that something was seriously wrong when a similar sign appeared on Roland's elbow. She left in the middle of the night, only caring Roland in her arms and a few essentials. She'd made enough money for the journey here. It was a long journey and it took them months, but they made it."

"I'm glad they did," Regina says, her voice thick with emotion. "When she began that journey, did she know that something more serious was going on? Something that could put her life at risk?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew, but I guess I'll never find out now."

He can hear the thickness of his own voice and for the first time, he doesn't mind being vulnerable. He doesn't mind it with Regina. Because beside her he's learnt that it's a part of life. Having a weak moment doesn't make you a weak person. She lets him have such moments, but never devalues him, and that's one of the traits that makes her special.

She releases a long sigh and slowly leans her head against his shoulder.

She's still there for him and with that gesture she makes sure he knows that.

"Thank you for telling me," she says.

"Thank you for listening to me."

They look at the dark waves in silence until Regina's watch indicates that it's time to get back to reality.

By the time they're ascending the steps to their respective homes, Robin's dizziness is completely gone and his feeling of vulnerability is as well.

The weight of Roland is comforting in his arms and Regina's sweet goodnight smile stays with him in his dreams.

 **::::::**

 _18th August 1946_

Only a few days after the Dormition of Virgin Mary, the residents of Spinalonga have another reason to celebrate. A festival like no other, the "Festival of Light", is held at the square.

It's a special day for the island, as electrical lanterns will light up the Market Street at night for the first time.

It took several tries on David's part and many unsuccessful written confrontations with the Greek state until he eventually managed to acquire a generator.

Most people have never seen a machine like that before. Some haven't even seen electricity before. For Regina it's not something completely new, but she's not exactly accustomed to always having it either.

At her father's practice back in Spain, they used electricity when needed. But they didn't depend on it. She's come to learn that it can be quite useful, even though she can't imagine having it constantly in her life.

Still, it's a unique occasion not only for Spinalonga, but for the bigger island across the sea. No village or town in Crete has had electricity in the public streets yet and word has come from Plaka that the villagers are having a similar festival, waiting for the smaller island to appear through the darkness of the night.

As she's making her way through the crowd, she notices Robin. Roland is sitting on his shoulders, looking at the older children in awe.

They've prepared a short play for the occasion, a combination of songs and poems that were written using the light as inspiration. The elevated centre of the square serves as their stage and when Regina reaches Robin and Roland, they're about to start.

As the children's singing echoes in the night and a cool breeze caresses her hair, she remembers all the celebrations of the last few months.

The one-year anniversary of the end of the war was marked by a festive gathering at the square. Food and drinks were offered, and people danced until they could no more.

Then, only a few days later, she and Henry prepared their own little feast to celebrate the first twelve months since Robin's arrival at Spinalonga. " _This is for us, for having you in our lives,"_ Henry had told him. " _Don't worry, you don't have to celebrate if you're still not ready!"_

Of course Henry's eleventh birthday was only three days ago and she'd better not think about it now, because she's sure she'll get emotional.

Her mind goes to one of her favourite memories of the summer. Roland had gotten bored of hearing stories about swimming and started wondering why they were not allowed to get in the water. It wasn't long before Henry trusted him with his secret. He'd found a secluded beach with his friends one day last year and ever since they've been going swimming. Lepers are not allowed to go into the sea as people claim they'll get the waters infected. But to Regina's knowledge, no such theory has been scientifically proven. And so, she's been letting her son enjoy the sea and more than once did Robin and Roland join them. She can still hear the waves in her mind, she can still smell the salty water on their skins. And she can still see Robin's warm smile as her son taught his how to swim.

The same smile he has for her now, as he turns to look at her through the shadows of the night.

His hands are holding Roland's legs securely against his shoulders and she can't reach out to intertwine her fingers with his. Not that she would do it out in public, but they're still in the dark and all eyes are focused on the stage. No one would notice. And it's not like they would be doing something bad. In such closed societies though, physical contact like that between a man and a woman would be considered improper. And so, they've kept it to themselves as they gradually adapted it into their more personal moments. It's usually to comfort, to remind them that they're there for one another. And they haven't even talked about it; it's just something that they do.

As they're standing among all these people, she only has his smile to make her heart beat a little faster and it's enough for now.

"Και εγένετο φως!**"

As the children sing "and light is born", the generator gives life to a dozen lamps along the Market Street. And the light raises hope into the people's hearts.

 **::::::**

 _11th November 1946_

A few weeks after the light generator, encouraging news arrived in the form of a letter from the United States of America.

A new medicine against leprosy, called promin, had been used in trials abroad, with positive results.

Robin wasn't certain if he should risk it. But he wanted to.

" _After everything else failed, it was exactly a chance like that we've been waiting for,"_ Regina had told him. " _I'm with you, whatever you decide. Even if you choose to not trust your instinct and pass the opportunity of a trial."_

And she was right, his instinct did tell him that this trial was something he had to do.

Having Regina's support and David's approval was a promising start. Soon, David managed to convince the rest of the Leper Colony council that their island needed this, they needed to try. If they failed, they would be in the same position they'd been for years. But if the results turned out positive, they'd have a chance to see the rest of the world again.

As autumn's rainy days give their place to the upcoming winter's first chill, almost all hesitant minds turn hopeful. While uncertainty was the initial reaction, they've come to trust Robin and they're trusting him with this as well.

The night before the first trial he stays at Regina's until late. They talk and talk as they sit side by side at the table, until her eyes begin dropping closed.

She's tried to reassure every doubt of his and help in every step of the way. She needs her rest more than anyone, and he feels guilty for stealing it from her.

She stifles a yawn and then supports her head with her elbow on the table.

Without thinking, Robin brings his hand to her face and softly caresses her cheekbone with his thumb.

"Sorry I kept you awake," he says. "I'll get Roland and go, okay?"

"Are you sure it's good idea?" she asks. "He looked quite cozy snuggled up with Henry under the covers."

"Can't say that I blame him. It sure is nice to have someone to keep you warm and safe now that the nights are getting colder," he says as he glances at Regina's bedroom.

And once he realises what he's just said and where he looked at when he said it, he freezes.

Regina looks wide awake now and is staring at him in surprise. Thinking that his bloody mistaken tongue could raise any awkwardness between them, alarms him.

But in the next moment, her demeanor changes and his sleepy friend is gone, a protective mother replacing her.

"I'll move the covers so you can get Roland easily," she says. "Just take a blanket with you, because it won't be good for him to go out into the cold while asleep."

"Of course, Milady," he teases her and she chuckles.

And that's good, it's them; simple and comfortable, and as she watches her get up slowly and make her way to Henry's room, he can't help but wonder what on earth made him say that to her. Let alone suggest with his inadvertent actions that it was not his son, but himself that needed the warmth and safety of another during these cold nights. _Her_ warmth and safety. Where had that come from?

He keeps chastising himself the whole time he spends removing his son from Henry's bed, and only dares a shy look at her when he carries him back in the common area, preparing to leave.

A quick touch of their hands accompanies their goodnight, and Robin puts all previous thoughts away and merely takes strength from their warm contact. Because tomorrow will mark the beginning of a difficult journey.

 **::::::**

 _24th December 1946_

Once the trials began, weeks went by in the speed of light. Or at least, that's what it felt like to Regina.

Robin had consulted with several American doctors before choosing among the volunteers who offered to try the new medicine. Some of the healthiest patients were among the chosen candidates, as well as some who had a few additional health problems and a few of the ones who had to remain hospitalised. Promin had to be tested by a variety of patients in order to find out whether it could work or not.

As December neared, Regina could see Robin start to tense up. Surely the stress of the trials was the most contributing factor to that, but she knew that there was also another reason, one everyone in Spinalonga was sympathetic about, yet no one dared to mention.

On Christmas Day, it would be the anniversary of Marian's death.

In the year that passed, Robin has spent pleasant moments with her and their sons, has tried hard to fit into their village and has done nothing but good for the hospital. Regina saw him fight to make sole moments of happiness matter, to keep them safe in his heart so that the dark cloud of his grief didn't absorb him completely in a world of doom.

But there were days when even the most resilient heart fails to maintain its strength, and the day before Christmas, Robin isn't himself.

" _There's no way I'm celebrating,"_ he said a couple of weeks ago, when people in the village started decorating the trees in front of their houses with small colourful ornaments of several materials.

" _You've got to be kidding me,"_ he muttered when, following David's order, an old wooden boat was also decorated and put in display in the middle of the square, like every year.

His crankiness lasted for the entire month. And when one of the volunteers who had been taking promin started having worrying symptoms, it got even worse.

"Why does Papa hate Christmas?" Roland asks as he watches Regina light up the sixth candle of Hannukah.

"He doesn't really hate Christmas, honey," she says. "He's just sad about your Mama going up in the skies on that day."

"But she _chose_ that day! The angels sing that day and she's an angel, so she's up there to sing with them."

Roland speaks with all the innocence an almost three-year-old has and how could she deny such a comforting version of his mother's death?

"You know what, Roland?" Henry asks with a grin. "Not only does your Mama sing with the other angels, but something else remarkable happens this time of the year. Άγιος Βασίλης*** is coming in a few days, or like your Papa would call him, Father Christmas. That one's coming tomorrow."

"Henry!"

"What, Mum? He has to know!"

Regina rolls her eyes. Her son is smart and as he gets older, he gets snarky at times. He's still a kind and helpful boy though, and that is a consoling thought.

"We can't make Robin celebrate Christmas if he doesn't feel like it," she says.

"What about Hanukkah?"

Roland's question makes Regina laugh. He's grown up so much this past year and his curiosity amuses her.

"Only Jewish people celebrate Hanukkah. And you and Papa aren't Jewish."

"Why-"

Regina is sure he would ask why they're not Jewish, but there's a loud knock on the door and he jumps.

"I'll get it!" Henry says.

"Henry, please ask who it is first."

Henry takes a peek out the window, through the flames of the six candles. "It's Robin!" he exclaims.

"Papa!" Roland says happily, sitting up in his chair.

Henry opens the door and his face falls when he sees Robin.

"What happened?" Regina asks.

Robin looks around the room, from Henry who is looking at him expectantly to Roland who is worrying his upper lip into his teeth and finally her who knows that something really isn't right.

"We'll talk later," he says gesturing slightly to both their boys. "Or better, when this bloody holiday is over."

"Papa! You said a bad word!" Roland chides sweetly. "And Christmas is not bad," he adds with finality.

Regina feels that if this wasn't a child, _his_ child, talking, Robin might as well combust with all the tension and obvious resentment he feels towards this particular holiday. Instead he takes a few extra deep breaths, before merely informing Roland that his Papa has to return to work and it's time to go. When he picks his son up without paying attention to his protests, she knows that Robin won't change his mind that easily.

And she wouldn't even try to make him do so.

All she wants is to have a word with him, to find out why he was urgently needed at the hospital on Christmas Eve and tell him that she'll understand it if he needs to vent that life is so unfair that it's ruined Christmas for his little boy.

But she doesn't have a chance to do any of that, because Robin is out of the door with a single _goodnight_ , with a complaining Roland in his arms and not even a glance back.

 **::::::**

 _25th December 1946_

He's hurt her. He knows he has. He heard the sharp intake of breath she took in surprise when he picked up Roland and turned around to leave without a real reason.

Neither Regina nor Henry have done anything to him and he shouldn't have treated them that way.

He wasn't that nice to Roland either, but with him he's made amends. After he willed himself to calm down last night, he gave a warm bath to Roland and asked him what story he wanted to hear at bedtime.

" _One with snowflakes and Christmas,"_ he said.

Not wanting to leave his son's wish unfulfilled, Robin made up a short story about the snowy mountains that liked Christmas and that was why there are always snowy mountain tops on this time of the year.

Rolands seemed to be satisfied and after he was finally asleep, Robin tried to think of ways to make it up to Regina and Henry while he still felt incredibly tired and overwhelmed.

It's well after midnight and quite into the first hours of Christmas day, when Roland climbs into his bed.

Robin has been unable to sleep. He'd been reliving that horrible night exactly one year ago every time he closed his eyes. He wonders if his son had somehow felt his distress or if, quite strangely, he knew it had happened on this exact time.

"Can I have one more story?" he asks in a small voice.

"Of course, my boy," Robin says, holding Roland close to him and covering him with his blanket.

"I want one with Father Christmas and Angels," Roland says.

Robin's love for his son feels so powerful, so special, right now that he would give him the whole world if he could. His boy is only asking for another story, not something expensive or impossible.

And so, he gives it to him.

"Once upon a time, there was an Angel walking on Earth. She was pretty and kind, and all the other Angels on Earth wanted to be like her. But then one day, she got sick. Her body stopped working and only her wings remained unharmed. The Angel couldn't stay at her Earthly home anymore and had to fly away. It was alright, though, because up there, in the sky where she'd been born, she was happy."

"What about the Angel's Earthy family?" Roland asks through a long yawn.

"Oh, she had a family?"

"Mh-hm."

"Another Angel who was still walking on Earth found them. She was pretty and kind as well. And she helped them stop being sad that their first Angel wasn't there anymore."

Roland moves against him and Robin thinks he's about to fall asleep again. But then another question comes. "What did Father Christmas do?"

"Father Christmas brought them together. See, the family and the new Angel lived far far away from one another. So, Father Christmas rode his magical sleigh and took the family to the new Angel."

He feels Roland's breath evening out; he's fallen asleep. But suddenly Robin is out of bed and unable to stop pacing.

His story wasn't far from the truth of their lives. Or at least his sleep-deprived mind is saying so. When their first Angel, Marian, left them, the new Angel was already with them at their side. Regina helped them both and without her, Robin wouldn't be the man he is today.

And his guilt about earlier won't let him find peace until he makes it right.

A crazy thought occurs to him as he hears the last of the people returning from the church.

Before he loses his nerve, he gently picks Roland up, wrapping a thick blanket around him. The freezing wind is piercing through his coat, but he keeps Roland protected from the cold in his arms and that's what matters.

He has to call Regina once, twice, before she opens the door.

"What's wrong?" she asks in a raspy voice.

"Nothing," Robin reassures her.

She's wearing a plain white nightdress with a navy blue shawl circling her shoulders. Her hair is tousled from sleep and her eyes are half closed as she's lighting a candle for them to see. And she's never looked more beautiful to him than she does right in this moment, under the candlelight.

He waits until she leaves the candle on the table and then he rearranges Roland in his arms and he pulls her into a hug. She stiffens at first, but soon relaxes and wraps her arms around Roland and him.

"I'm sorry," Robin whispers into her hair.

"What's going on?" Henry asks, rubbing his eyes as he appears from his bedroom door.

"Father Christmas brought us together," Roland says sleepily.

Regina pulls away slightly. "What?"

Robin chuckles. "It's just a little story Roland asked me to tell him." Regina and Henry keep looking at him questioningly, so he continues. "The point is that no matter if we celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah, no matter if we're not officially a family… I do consider you both my family. And we don't have to make big celebrations, right? We can just be together on this day."

"Of course, Robin," Regina says. "No one said you have to sing the carols or something. But not being rude and angry is something I do expect."

"And again I apologise. I came here as soon as I realised what a fool I was. Which I have to apologise for, too. For waking you up in the middle of the night and all."

"Okay, can we be together tomorrow, after we sleep?" Henry asks grumpily.

"Sweetheart, do you mind if Roland sleeps in your bed with you tonight?" Regina asks, smiling at her son's adorable sleepiness.

"No, Mum, that's okay," he says while he pats away and throws himself back on his comfortable mattress, Robin following closely behind to arrange both boys and bid them goodnight.

After their sons are both asleep, Regina and Robin find themselves at the kitchen table, with cups of hot beverages.

"Now what?" Robin asks.

"Now you talk to me about all the things that have been making you cranky lately," Regina says. "And then I thank Father Christmas that he put some sense into you."

A laugh escapes him and oh, how much he's missed her company in the last few weeks that the stress had begun taking a toll on him.

"It's… Well, mostly a combination of things. But Marian's absence is having a worse toll on me these days and sometimes I just can't help this feeling of…" He takes a small breath and lowers his eyes, as if his emotions make him feel ashamed. But she urges him on and he knows she won't judge, as she hasn't done a single moment these past few months after Marian's death. "Resentment. Anger. Even jealousy at times, of all these people that have reasons to smile and enjoy these days."

She does understand. How could she not? It took her a long time to be able to not allow her own crankiness interfere with everyone else's lives when the days of the anniversary of Daniel's death approached. "I promise it will feel better next year, Robin."

"I know. Thank you, Regina," he says with honesty, "thank you for not giving up on me. For being there for me, for Roland, even when I was being rude to you. Thank you for being my friend."

"None of that," she smiles, but still acknowledges his gratitude giving his hand a squeeze. "Now on to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day and I'm guessing we'll have to deal with two very excited boys, so we should get some rest."

She brings him warm blankets and a soft pillow at his request to sleep on her sofa and once more, he can't help but wonder what would have happened to him and Roland this year had it not been for this woman. He stills her amidst her _Goodnight_ as she turns towards her room and before he gives it a second thought, he places a soft kiss on her cheek. It's nothing to mull over or analyze. Merely his own way to show her again how much he appreciates her presence in his life and all the help she's given him.

"Happy Hanukkah, Regina," he says simply.

She reaches for his hand and holds it, smiling at him as she tells him, "Merry Christmas, Robin."

 **::::::**

*Καλημέρα - Kalimera - Good morning

**Και εγένετο φως - Ke egeneto fos - And light was born

*** Άγιος Βασίλης - Agios Vasilis - The Greek Santa Claus


End file.
